Tales of Love and Loss
by Istani
Summary: Part 3 The new governor of Port Royal wants to see Jack swinging from the gallows, and he's very close to reaching his target. Norrington returns, but is he really just on honeymoon? ... AU, DMCAWE never happened but were inspiring...
1. Take me to the gallows

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Captain Jack Sparrow or any other character from POTC. I've just borrowed them and I will return them as soon as I'm tired of playing with them.

**Author's note**: Sequel to Chalice of Doom. I recommend you read that before.

**Tales of Love and Lost **

**Part 1- the Sparrow and the Tiger**

Chapter 1- Take me to the gallows

Madras, 1695 

"Your tea, Sahib." The servant placed the silver tray neatly on the desk and bowed to the English gentleman sitting there before he retreated with another bow.

James Norrington reached for the exquisite china cup without looking up from the pile of files he was flickering through but then he reconsidered his behaviour and gave his servant a polite smile; he didn't want to appear rude.

"Thank you very much, Tamal."

"You are welcome, Sahib."

Tamal was as polite and obedient as always. All of his Indian servants were polite, obedient, and so very correct you could set the clock on them- when Tamal brought the tea it was exactly five o'clock. Teatime in England. He would get scones and cucumber sandwiches as if he was still at his family estate near Brighton and not several thousand miles away in Madras, India.

Norrington rose from his chair, slightly massaging his temples, and walked up to the window. The shutters were closed to keep the heat out but now he opened them, feeling the warmth of the sun in his face. He still couldn't believe it.

Why had the Admiralty in London sent him of all people to become Vice Governor of Madras and Commodore of all Royal Navy's ships here? Why had they chosen him to bring an end to corruption and piracy in these waters? Well, it wasn't that he didn't believe himself capable of this task- he surely was- but he didn't deserve being promoted and given a position with so much prestige when he should have deserved a military trial, being demoted or dishonourably dismissed of the Royal Navy. After the events in Port Royal he still felt miserable, guilt ridden and ashamed, and definitely not worthy of the trust the Admiralty put in him.

He sighed. He had wanted to put things right, many times. But no one had ever cared to hear him out. Governor Swann had refused to see anything else in him but the man re-establishing law and order after the earthquake, the famous pirate hunter. Ironically it had been a pirate who'd saved his life and his reputation. Jack Sparrow.

Norrington looked out of the window and let his thoughts roam, shuddering despite the Indian heat when he remembered what had transpired in Port Royal. He had been possessed. His ambition had made him vulnerable to the tempting call of the Chalice of Doom that told him he could get everything he wanted. And he had wanted too much. He had desperately wanted promotion so his family could be proud of him and he had wanted a fine woman at his side to show off. Now, that his mind was clear again he could smile bitterly at this thought but then, influenced by evil magic, he had believed it was his goddamned right to get whatever he wanted no matter what it would cost. Actually he had become a complete parody of his real self though it still shocked him how easily he had changed. He had neglected his duties and done evil deeds, and yet no one had ever charged him. Those who knew the full extend of his crimes had remained silent, Sparrow, Will and Elisabeth Turner, and the female pirate with the flashing red hair, Rowan Scarlett...

Unconsciously his hand reached for his cheek, his fingers running along the thin white line of a scar, the constant reminder of their last encounter. He, Commodore James Norrington, had been beaten by a woman and since then there had been many times he had wished she would have killed him that day. But he owed his life to Jack Sparrow of all people, the infamous pirate captain.

Having to live with that knowledge troubled him even more than the tears Governor Swann had to blink away the day they said farewell. Not aware of what he had almost done to his beloved daughter Swann had been inconsolable to see such a capable officer leave but Norrington just couldn't have stayed in Port Royal any longer. He had felt so guilt-ridden that he had almost begged the admiralty in London for a transfer and finally he had been ordered him back to England to await further instructions. Honestly, he had wanted to tell them what really had happened but they also wouldn't hear him out. Any word of protest was considered as modesty so he had ended up with a prestigious job he simply didn't deserve and the most splendid ship he had ever seen. The Sovereign had even looked absolutely impressive when she was still in the shipyard and finally sailing her from London to India had been a pleasure he would have never wanted to miss.

His family, especially his father, was so proud of him. James had never felt more uncomfortable in his presence, knowing that his father's pride was based on lies. He was no hero, he was probably worse than the pirates he had hunted in the Caribbean. Worse than Jack Sparrow… _no, I don't wish to think about **him** today_. But fact was that this dreadful pirate had turned his world upside down. He couldn't distinguish between right and wrong anymore- or more precisely, the world seemed no longer divided in black and white but there were different shades of grey. Many nights he couldn't sleep pondering over issues he had never before bothered to question. That had even spoiled his holiday at his family's estate. _Damn you, Sparrow._

He glanced out of the window and drew in a deep breath, inhaling a unique blend of exotic spices, incense and sunlit shores; the scent of India. However Fort St. George looked just like any other English fort in the colonies except that it was much bigger. The formerly small garrison build in the 1640's had increased to the expanses of a small town called Georgetown which also housed the base of the East India Company. There were many stores and offices nowadays, homes of merchants who had settled here. Georgetown was very British, perhaps more than Jamaica. It occurred to Norrington that he hadn't seen a glimpse of the real India yet.

He returned to his desk, trying again to concentrate on the neglected files his corrupt and sloppy predecessor had left him. Apparently 'Sir' Hugh W. Woods had seen it as far more profitable to take bribes from pirates instead of hunting them down and the amount of unsolved cases concerning missing young ladies indicated that he also might have been involved in some slave trade. It was no secret here that the moguls, sultans and maharajas of this part of the world had an increasing interest in enriching their harems with fair-skinned, blonde European maidens and they were willing to pay large sums for exceptional beautiful ones. Norrington had immediately doubled the night patrol in Georgetown's streets once he had found out that sickening fact, hoping to spare all fair ladies in his area of responsibility such an awful fate.

Also, a number of incidents near Ceylon worried him. Several ships of the East India Company had been attacked and raided while crossing the Palk Strait, and one was reported missing without a trace. Woods had written a succinct remark, blaming French privateers or the Dutch East India Company, but he hadn't made any enquiries into solving the problem which annoyed Norrington extremely. He really hoped to find clear evidence of Woods' involvement in covering up criminals so that the man would spend the rest of his life in the Tower instead of spending his wealth earned by corruption. Unfortunately he had no proof yet and he would have to add the Palk Strait incidents to the list of Woods' inability if not the date these incidents had started had drawn his attention. There was something about that date though he couldn't remember what it was. Instead of racking his brains or searching through the pile of files again he had done the most reasonable. He had written a letter to the Dutch Governor of Ceylon, Thomas van Ree, asking for his assistance in solving the problem. Alas, there had been no response yet but he expected an answer within the next few days.

Norrington leaned back in his chair and rubbed his tired eyes. He needed a drink. Of course he could have rung for his servants to get him a fine whiskey but he decided otherwise. He had to get out of his office for a while; he had hidden in here for much too long anyway, turning down all offers to participate in Georgetown's social life ever since he came to Madras. Still he wasn't in the mood for polite upper-class small talk but he fancied a stroll through the streets of Madras to discover the Indian side of the town now.

Away from Georgetown life was rougher and more rudimentary, most houses weren't neatly but makeshift built and the streets were dirty. James Norrington saw crippled beggars stretching out withered hands for a rupee and beautiful dark-skinned women dressed in colourful saris. The air smelled of exotic spices and sizzling food at small take-away stalls, it also smelled of incense lit in temples of the various Indian deities. Snake-charmers played disturbing strange melodies, sounding almost dissonant to his English ear. He felt as appalled as he was fascinated by the strangeness of this place and soon he had to withdraw his first impression on Madras. This town was not British at all, no matter what Georgetown looked like. Englishmen were only tolerated but not really welcomed here- he got quite a few glares indicating just that.

_Heathens_, he thought when he passed another temple of one of the many Hindi deities but then he quickly reconsidered his attitude. Once he had so easily given up his faith for a promising career in the realm of darkness, ruled by the malicious Goddess Nirrti, so he had better be tolerant when it comes to religious beliefs now. After all, not all Indian Gods sent a shiver down his spine. Most of them just looked extremely colourful and peculiar strange with their many arms but nonetheless peaceful, it was the same for the Buddha statues he casually saw.

Norrington had never expected he would ever accept such a strange culture, so different to his own, yet he suddenly felt enthralled by it. His former self wouldn't have but he had changed somehow and now he even dared to try the simple Indian fare offered at take-away stalls. It was at least an exciting experience that left his tongue burning with spices.

He didn't know it then but that really improved his acceptance within the Indian community and he got less hostile glances from that day on.

Nevertheless he thought it was really time for a drink so he returned to the familiar quarter of Georgetown and entered one of the noisy taverns in the dock area where hopefully nobody would recognise him as vice governor of Madras. All he wanted now was to get slightly drunk and to forget his duties for a while, at least for tonight. Odd, but in his former life he would have never done that.

_It's all Jack Sparrow's doing_, he told himself while gulping down his first pint of beer and immediately ordering the next. _Damn you, Jack Sparrow_. Norrington raised his glass for a toast to a distant foe when suddenly his eyes seemed to trick him. _No, that can't be true. **He** is not here. It's just his vision haunting you that you see him everywhere, even at the most unlikely places…_

The 'vision' didn't vanish though, no matter how hard he rubbed his eyes. That was definitively the infamous pirate captain sitting there all on his own and apparently kind of drunk. Norrington couldn't help but walking up to his table.

"Sparrow?" He asked incredulously, not believing his own eyes. Yet it was undoubtedly him; no other man he knew had his hair decorated the way Jack Sparrow had, with dreadlocks, colourful beads and trinkets.

These trinkets jingled now as the one directed cocked his head and stared at Norrington, apparently not recognising him.

"Capt'n. 'tis Capt'n Sparrow. Me thinks I know me name but why d'ye?" The pirate asked, slurring more than usual. He kept on staring at Norrington until he finally got why that guy seemed so familiar to him. "Commodore? You're 'ere? That's funny?" Chuckling he stretched out his hands. "Well, clap me in irons 'n take me to the gallows, mate."

"Why?" Norrington gasped, feeling slightly overtaxed with the situation. He pulled over a chair and sat down opposite to the pirate.

"'cause ye're the pirate hunter 'n I'm the bloody pirate, savvy? Seein' me swingin' from the gallows is yer life's aim, yer pleasure."

"It is certainly not my pleasure to see anybody executed by hanging but it is my duty to bring criminals to justice. The laws have to be obeyed." _So why am I sitting here chatting with a drunken pirate?_, the Navy officer wondered. _Why do I not simply do my duty and take him into custody? Because he is right? Because it **was**_ _my life's aim to see pirates swing from the gallows, the more the better. Each Pirate caught and executed was a thrill, a pleasure on my way up the ladder to success and promotion…_ He felt almost sick when he thought about it now. Though he still believed in justice and that laws have to be obeyed, he couldn't see the world divided in black and white anymore. There were many shades of grey in between and there was Captain Jack Sparrow. He sighed. No, he definitely did **not **want to take the man to the gallows to whom he owed his life- especially not when said man was much too drunk to be a real challenge to him.

"Well, since ye're juss sittin' there starin' at me we could as well 'ave another drink together. What d'ye say?"

Jack didn't wait for a response but barked at the barmaid to get him a bottle of rum. At once. When he finally got the ordered bottle he raised it to his mouth and started drinking the rum as if it was water until Norrington managed to snatch the bottle from his hands.

"That is enough. You will drink yourself to death."

"Afraid of missin' out on yer fun if I spare ye the hangin'?"

"Good Lord- no. I was just wondering how much rum you already had today."

"Ummm…" The pirate grimaced, thinking hard. "Well, tell me when today's started 'n yesterday's ended 'n I might be able te answer yer question…"

"May I assume then you have been drinking for days? So what's up with you Captain Sparrow? Where's your ship, your crew?" Norrington placed his hand on Jack's shoulder but the pirate shook it off immediately, a wary impression clouding his face. Suddenly he even seemed to sober up.

"That's none of yer business. I might be a tad drunk but not enough to get cheated by you. I'm not givin' away me fellows, savvy?"

"Honestly, that was never my intention…"

"Are we finally done with polite small talk?" The pirate asked impatiently and held out his hands once again. "Now be brief and do what ye 'ave te do. Clap me in irons."

"No."

"No?"

"I can't do that. You have saved my life."

"Ah, my mistake. I swear it'll never 'appen again. So no gallows today? I wouldn't mind. I've got nothin' to lose… not anymore."

"You are drunk. You don't mean what you say. How about your ship and your crew?"

Jack let out a deep and very frustrated sigh. "They're alright… I think. Seems I've lost 'em somewhere around town..." He grabbed for the bottle again.

"So what is troubling you?"

"Me? Nothin'. Hey, I'm Capt'n Jack Sparrow, mate." Despite his words he felt absolutely miserable and he knew that not all the rum of this world could sooth his pain. "She's left me. Rowan." he whispered then, almost snickering at the thought that he was pouring out his heart to Norrington of all people.

"Oh." Norrington didn't know what else to say as every phrase of sympathy seemed to be out of place. What to tell an abandoned pirate? That he would find another one and time heals all wounds? "What happened?"

"She ran away with some sort of an Indian Lord."

A while ago that wouldn't have surprised Norrington since any sane person should know that it wasn't wise to associate with a pirate- but Jack Sparrow was not an ordinary pirate. Also, he had a certain reputation with women…

"Have you betrayed her?"

Jack snorted contemptuously. "Never even looked at other women since I know 'er- well, mayhap juss a little… D'ye know the difference 'tween a whore 'n a real woman, one that gives willingly, passionately, with all 'er heart?"

Norrington blushed and stared to the floor, shaking his head. Most of the time he had been too fixated on his career and when he finally had fallen in love it had almost ended in a horrible disaster. Now he knew that his love for Elisabeth had only been a crush because she had seemed to be the appropriate woman to him; she was very beautiful and of suitable rank. Of course these were good reasons for a marriage- his mother had introduced dozens of fair ladies with a respectable family name to him during his stay in Brighton- but when he looked at the pirate opposite of him he knew that there still had be other reasons. Though he didn't know what Jack Sparrow saw in that red haired witch other than a woman with flashing red hair and bad manners, he was nevertheless aware of the fact that she really meant a lot to Jack. And he sat there, trying to give advice about things he had no idea of himself, trying to advise a pirate.

"Um, have you told her what you feel about her?"

The pirate looked at him as if he'd gone mad. "Course I did. Not much with words though but with gestures 'n me body."

"Women like to hear these famous three words from time to time." _At least that's what I've heard_, Norrington mused when another thought flashed through his brain, still wondering why Rowan might have left Jack Sparrow. "Women also like to have things settled- so have you ever thought about making a proposal?"

"Aye. Guess what she said? She said she'd die for me but she'd never ever walk down the aisle of a bloody church and kneel to some bloody priest. She said we're pirates, we don't need a bloody preacher man to justify our love." Jack sighed heavily and ordered another bottle of rum. The golden liquid comforted him, filled the emptiness inside him for a moment and then left him heartbroken like he was before… and so very drunk. Nevertheless he took another swig, lost in thoughts… there had been something strange about the way Rowan had left him and walked away with that Indian… Damned, if only he could remember! But he had been drunk for too many days in a row now and tonight wouldn't change a thing.

"I 've te find 'er." He slurred while making efforts to get to his feet. Funnily his legs seemed to refuse to work, they felt a little shaky… A moment later he collapsed right into Norrington.

The poor Navy officer really didn't know how to deal with that situation. He was in a tavern in Madras and held an unconscious pirate in his arms. What to do? He couldn't just drop him on the table and leave him there, also he couldn't call for his soldiers, giving orders to carry him to the prison. Helplessly he patted the pirate's cheeks."

"Sparrow? Captain Sparrow? Jack? Do you hear me? Do you think you can walk a few steps?"

"No." The pirate opened his khol-smeared eyes and stared at him, snickering. "Ne'er told me ye 've a twin."

_Just drop him and leave_, Norrington told himself but instead he half dragged and half carried the pirate captain towards the door. A bit of fresh air might help him to sober up.

"Sahib!" The bartender called as he came running after him, bowing apologetically all the time. "Please Sahib, forgive me for bothering you Sahib, but unfortunately your friend has forgotten to pay his bill and meself, your humbled servant Sahib, has three wives and eleven kids to feed, so please have mercy on me Sahib."

"How much?" James Norrington had at least learned that much during his stay in India- though the Indians seemed to be very obsequious they yet had a certain knack for boldly doubling their prices when dealing with Englishmen so bargaining was on the agenda. In the end Norrington had saved as many rupees as he had spent on Sparrow's drinking excess and he still didn't know what to do with the pirate. He patted his cheeks again once they were outside the tavern, leaving a sobbing bartender behind who probably laughed surreptitiously about the stupid Englishman for believing his story about three wives and eleven kids.

"Come on now, get a grip on yourself or you will really end up in jail!" He hissed angrily at the pirate but most of all he was angry with himself. _Why do I not take him into custody and let justice decide upon his fate?__It would be so easy- a short drop and a sudden stop. Then the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow would be dead and couldn't remind me of my own crimes anymore. So easy and yet impossible. After all, I do have a conscience…_

"Commodore Norrington?"

The voice of a young officer startled him and he was cast back into reality when he saw a young Lieutenant approaching him with a couple of soldiers on night patrol. Suddenly he wished he hadn't doubled the night patrol because he didn't know how to talk himself out of that situation. He was half carrying and half dragging a drunken pirate to his house.

"Can we help you, Sir?"

Norrington froze, still not knowing what to say. He should have been bound to his duties and told them that he had captured an infamous pirate captain but he couldn't do that. He couldn't take the man who had saved his life and his reputation to the gallows.

"I'm alright, Lieutenant Brody."

"Aye, Sir. Your friend doesn't seem to be well though."

"He's not my friend." Norrington snapped without thinking. _I'm definitely **not** friend with a pirate…_

"Excuse me, Sir. May I assume that he is a member of your family then?"

"Very distant, Lieutenant, very distant." What could he have replied with but a lie? Brody shouldn't get the impression that carrying unconscious men home was his favourite pastime. It didn't improve the situation when Jack Sparrow opened his eyes for a moment, a drunken smile on his face.

"Uncle Jamie."

"Shut up or I swear I'll take you to jail and throw away the keys." Norrington growled embarrassed. Not only had he refused to do his duty, he had also spoiled the good name of his family by connecting it with a filthy pirate. He wished he hadn't gone out tonight but stayed at home.

"Commodore, it seems to me your nephew had a few glasses too much so may I offer my aid in taking him to your house?" Lieutenant Brody offered keenly and lent a hand before his superior could even think about protesting. Together they took Captain Jack Sparrow to Norrington's house.

"I beg your pardon Sir but by the appearance of your nephew I would have never guessed that you are related." Brody confessed after they had laid the drunken pirate down on the bed in one of the guestrooms. Then he murmured. "Probably he is some kind of artist…"

_If you want to call piracy an art…_ Norrington thought sarcastically as he urged the Lieutenant out of the room. Jack had stirred in his drunken sleep, stuffing a pillow under his head and revealing the red brand on his arm that marked his as a pirate. He definitely didn't want Brody to see it.

"Lieutenant Brody, I am grateful for your support but I must beg you that this won't go any further. I am not pleased with that unfortunate incident, it is truly embarrassing to me."

"You can always count on me Sir!" Brody clipped his heels and saluted. "Apparently there's a black sheep in every family."

Norrington said good night to the Lieutenant who would surely get to a high position within the Royal Navy one day; he was such a promising young man. Then he returned to his guestroom, still not believing what he'd done. He was housing a wanted criminal, an infamous pirate captain. Yet the man looked so innocent now as he had curled himself up into a ball, hugging a pillow.

He sighed and went to his own bed, knowing that he probably wouldn't get much sleep since he was still pondering about the events of this evening.

-

"Well, apparently I'm not in jail and that makes me wonder what you're up to, Commodore."

Norrington winced at the sound of Jack's voice and looked up from his files to see the pirate leaning against the doorpost of his office, arms folded across his chest, eying him warily.

"Oh, you are already up." He said surprised. It was still quite early in the morning and he had expected the pirate would sleep it off until afternoon, drunk as he had been.

"Aye, I'm already up. And please spare both of us the question of whether I've slept well." Jack walked up to the desk and bent over to stare straight at the Commodore, his eyes dark and absolutely unfathomable. "Why am I here?"

Although Jack's voice was calm Norrington noticed a dangerous undertone in it. He also noticed that Sparrow carried a pistol and a sword in his sash while he himself was unarmed. Suddenly he became aware of the fact that- no matter if Jack Sparrow had saved his life once- he was still dealing with a pirate and pirates were dangerous. So he should better tell the truth.

"Mr Sparrow you…"

"Captain. It's **Captain** Sparrow." Jack rolled his eyes, apparently annoyed of having to correct daft people who couldn't remember to use his proper title.

"Pardon me, **Captain **Sparrow. If I may explain now why you are here?"

"Well."

Norrington cleared his throat, feeling increasingly uneasy with the intense gaze of the pirate. "In Jamaica you had every reason to kill me but you didn't. You could have told Governor Swann what I had indented to carry out with his daughter but you didn't. You have even managed to persuade Mr Turner not to give away the crimes I had committed. I still don't know how you managed that…"

"Ah, I simply told the whelp we won't take him to Shanghai and help him to find his father." A half smile was curling up Jack's lips but his eyes were still focussing the Commodore with wariness.

"His father is still alive?" Norrington gasped with surprise. "I thought he was an orphan."

"That's what he and I thought too. Of course that was before Rowan told us the truth and since then he was pestering her about that topic so we decided we'd take him to Shanghai and- could it be that ye're trying to turn our conversation, Commodore? Is it that you've turned from being a pirate hunter to a pirate friend now, harbouring pirates in yer house, chatting about good ol' times. Or…" Jack frowned and pulled a disgusted face, instantly backing away a bit from the Navy officer. "Ye don't have any weird interest in me, d'ye?"

It took Norrington a few seconds to get what the pirate was alluding to but then he was absolutely shocked. "Good Lord! No! Definitely not. You are clearly overestimating your charm, Sparrow."

"Ah, that's good." Jack and flopped down in an armchair next to the desk, grinning at the Commodore. "But you have to admit I have a certain charm, aye?"

"There are moments like this when I wish I had taken you seriously yesterday. I wish I had taken you to jail."

"I know exactly what ye mean mate. I've spared yer life and yer reputation because the people of Port Royal needed you then but I thought ye'd stay there. If I'd known ye'd come to Asia to bother me things might have been different. But well, I believe thanks for not taking me to jail are in order now." Jack put his palms together at chest-level and sketched a bow. "That was mighty nice of you, dear Commodore. Mind getting me a drink now?"

Norrington rolled his eyes- that man was maddening and absolutely inscrutable. Nevertheless he had to consider his duties as a host so he rang for his servants, giving the order to serve his _dear_ guest a decent breakfast even though the dear guest would have rather had a bottle of rum.

"Actually I'm not hungry…" Jack changed his mind when a plate with food was placed in front of him. Fried eggs, sausages, beans and toasted bread- greedily he began to cram himself with all the things that were offered, even gulping down a glass of fresh orange juice in between.

To Norrington he looked just like a hungry wolf that had almost been starving.

"Why ye're staring at me? Never seen a pirate eating?"

Now that was a good question. Commodore James Norrington had always considered pirates as what they were- plundering and ravaging criminals, the curse of the high seas. He had never seen them as individuals with a background other than the crimes that were reported in his files, not as human beings who breathed, ate and drank just like he did. He hadn't even expected them to be human at all- especially not after his encounter with Barbossa and his crew of cursed miscreants. But Jack Sparrow was different. Deep inside he was a good man despite his choice of profession, a man with emotions.

"Well, since you apparently have changed your mind and don't want to be taken to the gallows anymore, would you mind telling me what made you wish to die yesterday."

"Ah, I was just kidding. Mayhap I was a tad drunk too."

Norrington knew a lie when it was told to him. The pirate had been very drunk but he had also been desperate.

"Besides, Ye can't take me to the gallows because ye've got scruples and I've got to find me woman, savvy?"

"You said she left you and ran away with an Indian Lord…"

"Aye, that's what I said. But now I'm sure she didn't leave me voluntarily."

"What makes you thinks so- and please don't say because you are Captain Jack Sparrow?"

Jack chuckled. "Never thought ye had a sense of humour, Commodore." Then he grew grave again. "Her eyes were grey."

"Her eyes were grey?" Norrington didn't understand what Jack was about.

"Aye, her eyes were grey. If she had wanted to go with the bloody Indian because she liked him better than me her eyes would've been sparkling green, as green as a calm, sunlit bay. Her eyes are always of that incredible green when we make love but they tend to turn into a storm-clouded grey- just like the sea in a storm- when she's angry... or scared. Therefore she didn't leave me voluntarily and therefore I've to find her. That's why I came all the way from Colombo to Madras."

"Hold on please. Am I right in guessing that that incident happened in Colombo?"

"Right."

"But why did you sail to Madras instead of searching for her there?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Because she had lived here a couple of years ago, even had an Indian fiancée once, so it's fairly reasonable to believe she knows quite a few people here and one of them might bear her a grudge. After all, she was deeply involved with the Maharaja's family…"

"Oh my God!" Norrington went pale. He had read something about unsolved deaths within the Maharaja's family so he started flickered through his files nervously until he found the one he was looking for. If possible he went even paler then. "Could it really be that Rowan Scarlett was the red-haired woman Tyagraja was engaged to? You know, Tyagraja was the younger son of the old and very popular Maharaja of Madras but both of them died under mysterious circumstances and it was assumed that a red-haired woman was involved in both cases."

The pirate sighed. "Well that's a long story and I probably know only half of it 'cause Rowan doesn't like to talk 'bout it- understandably- so I never urged her to. All I know is that she actually **did** kill the man she loved before he could kill her. I believe it was self-deference."

"The files say the elder brother became Maharaja then but he was so grief-stricken because of his loss that he went mad and became excessively cruel…"

"Bloody lies!" Jack interrupted sharply. He pointed his index finger at Norrington. "That brother was the evil one. He was trying to force the same ritual upon her that you would have forced upon Elisabeth- all for Nirrti's sake- if we hadn't stopped ye, savvy? That's exactly what Rowan did then. She sacrificed her love so that Nirrti could **not** claim this world as her realm."

_Nirrti again…_ Norrington felt sick and extremely guild ridden because of the crimes he had committed in a frantic eagerness to get promoted. Yet he had to forget about that now and concentrate on the really important issues he had to tell the pirate; it almost caused him nausea.

"Jack, I'm sorry having to say that but if the former Maharaja of Madras holds a grudge against Rowan, then the situation is truly worrisome. That man really is the personification of evil. He started a reign of terror, disregarding each and every law, and when things grew even worse Governor Wellington asked Mogul Aurangzeb for help; together they banished him from town almost seven years ago. It's unknown where he went or who might have granted him sanctuary so I fear you came to Madras in vain."

"Alright, I need a drink now." Jack bit his lip, trying to hide his inner turmoil. The Commodore handed him a glass of whiskey and he gulped it down in an attempt to fill the increasing emptiness within him. It didn't help much though.

Norrington placed a comforting hand on Jack's shoulder, surprising himself by doing so. He should not comfort a pirate. He should clap him in irons and take him to jail- and **not** feel sympathy for him. Yet he did. And it got even worse. Though the pirate was a maddening scallywag James Norrington began to like him.

"Mayhap the man you saw Rowan with was **not **the former Maharaja. After all there is no proof to that. Mayhap you have completely misjudged the whole situation and there is a simple explanation for her behaviour and after all is said and done …"

The pirate cut him short. "If ye're indicating that Rowan might have needed someone else to screw her for a change then it's neither a very encouraging nor a very likely thought. I definitely do know how to give pleasure to a woman."

"There is absolutely no need to be vulgar, Jack."

"I'm just telling the truth, _Jamie_." Jack replied, a bit stunned about the fact that the Commodore had started calling him by his first name. That sounded as strange as his mocking retort did.

"Don't overrate my hospitality, _Mister_ Sparrow. I simply wanted to spare myself an embarrassing explanation- that was the only reason I described you as a distant member of my family. So please don't get too personal. But if you really want to tell the truth why don't you start at the beginning? You said you came to Asia because you wanted to help William Turner to find his father in… Shanghai? What was he doing in Shanghai and how did you get from there to Colombo?"

"By ship. Sailing, ye know…" Grinning, Jack reached for the fine crystal carafe with whiskey and took a good mouthful before he made himself comfortable in his armchair again, embracing the carafe. "Well, Bill Turner- that's Will's father- was taken to a Buddhist monastery near Shanghai by Alf after excessively chasing the dragon for quite a while. We sailed there so that Will could meet up with his father before he became a father himself…"

**Author's note**: Thanks for reading and please don't forget to review. I love feedback.


	2. Father, son and pirate

Chapter 2- Father, Son and Pirate

"Elisabeth was pregnant then?" Norrington gasped and stared at Jack as if he couldn't believe his own ears. It was like a punch in the stomach to imagine that he had not only threatened Elisabeth's life but also that of her unborn, innocent child

"Aye. Lydia's two years old now…"

"Lydia."

"Well, they named her after Elisabeth's mother. She should be glad she wasn't a boy…"

"What's wrong with little boys?"

The pirate rolled his eyes. "Stop interrupting me. Just imagine a little boy called Weatherby- the poor lad would be a walking joke."

Norrington allowed himself a little grin at that thought before his face grew blank again, hiding his emotions, as it was proper for an English gentleman. "Mother and child are well, I hope? I assume Lydia looks just as pretty as her mother."

"Dunno." Jack shrugged, bored and not really interested in continuing with that kind of conversation. "To me she looked like a hairless red worm when she was born and now she has grown to a spoiled brat that constantly bawls if she doesn't get what she wants. Of course, her loving parents let her have her way… Do you want to hear more 'bout Lydia or can I go on with me story now? After all, that's what ye've asked for, Commodore."

"Please proceed with your story." Norrington said though he would have loved to hear more about Elisabeth's daughter. But he knew as well that that was hardly the right topic to chat about with a pirate. Probably pirates weren't even fond of little children at all.

Jack took a swig of whiskey before he continued. "Well, after we left Port Royal we sailed southwards."

He didn't tell Norrington that they had sailed to Isla de Muerta first, nor of the events that had happened there. Actually he had never talked about that ever since, as some things were just too horrifying to put them in words. The feeling of slowly turning into a marble statue was definitely not an every day experience…

"We had a pleasant voyage along the coast of the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, seizing a couple of ships to have a good living…"

"Captain Sparrow you're not telling me that you kept on committing your ruthless deeds with a pregnant woman aboard your ship!" Norrington interrupted sternly.

"Mate, considering what ye've had in mind doing to Elisabeth I swear she was almost safe as in heaven aboard my ship, savvy?" Jack replied in the very same tone though he had to snicker when the Commodore blushed guilt-ridden. In a more placatory mood he added. "Besides, Rowan and I had developed a very unique strategy in commandeering these heavy loaded Spanish gold vessels that no one involved was more than necessarily harmed."

"Please do me a favour and spare me the details."

"I wasn't gonna give away any details anyway so don't fret. After all, we've just pillaged Spanish ships- Morgan was knighted for that once."

"Those were different times."

"Oh, is that so?" Jack frowned and thought about it. "I can't see any difference though. Morgan robbed the Spaniards who had robbed the Indians and I robbed the Spaniards who had robbed the Indians. He had killed more people in one day than I in my entire life yet he was called 'Sir' and I'm called pirate." He sighed. "Well, actually I think I'm the better guy."

Norrington didn't know what to say. His education told him that there were laws to be considered but deep inside him a newly developed sense of justice recognized the pirate's logic and he accepted it somehow.

"Nevertheless you shouldn't have exposed a pregnant woman to your swashbuckling lifestyle."

"She didn't have to fight so don't fuss about it." Jack chuckled about the appalled expression on the Commodore's face and bent over to look the man in the eye. "But- to tell ye the truth- I'd rather take a stroll through hell than ever have a pregnant woman aboard again. Pregnant woman are unpredictable. In the middle of the sea Elisabeth pestered me she wanted strawberries with cream..."

Norrington could see Elisabeth in his mind's eye, her pretty nose stuck up, an almost stubbornly determined expression in her face, saying, _but I want strawberries now._ Given that her father adored her too much Elisabeth had always gotten what she wanted- even an inappropriate blacksmith as husband. He would have loved to see how the pirate had talked himself out of that situation.

"… and we had to stop in every civilized port along our way." Now that had been something Jack hadn't minded at all. Being separated most of the time was the constant problem of two pirate captains in love that still had a profound sense of responsibility for their ships and their crews, so every stop had been a welcome pleasure. Nevertheless he sighed now. "Every time she needed something else. In Recifé she would've died for pineapple juice and in Bahia she wanted a steak. Just a couple o' days later she suddenly couldn't stand the smell of meat anymore so my whole crew had to become vegetarians. Then, another week later, the smell of rum affronted her little nose…"

"So you refused giving rum to your crew?"

"C'mon Commodore don't be daft. I've gone through a mutiny once and I never wanna have that again, savvy? Of course I ignored her request."

Norrington nodded sympathetically, not envying the pirate at all.

"Well, after all that whining and yelling of Mrs Turner we all had deserved a little vacation in Rio de Janeiro before we continued our way down south…"

He hadn't really thought about it before but suddenly it dawned on Norrington which way the pirates had chosen sailing to China, so he gasped with surprise. "You sailed around Cape Horn?"

"Aye. Cape Horn." Jack's eyes gleamed with adventurous joy now. "There are only a few passages which are a real challenge for a sailor but sailing 'round Cape Horn is definitely the most challenging one. Nowhere in the world the weather conditions are more unpredictable and the environment is more hostile; most of the year the wind is strong and the sea is rough. We were surrounded by big breakers and foamy waves that carry powdered snow along their crests while each member of the crew gave his best to win the race Rowan and I had decided to have. The winner would have been the one who first reached the Spanish settlement of Valdivia…"

_He's mad- how could a sane person even think about a race around the horrible and fearful Cape Horn,_ Norrington wondered and yet he couldn't help but ask who had won.

"Lust." The pirate replied with a wry smile and then he shrugged. "We couldn't wait 'til Valdivia so we dropped anchor as soon as we reached calm waters again. I'm sure I would have won the race though Rowan was a tad ahead then- she's a damned good sailor, for a woman." Jack took a sip of whiskey. "Well, the rest of the voyage was kinda boring. We passed many little islands, Lizzie's mood became as calm as the Pacific with every pound she gained, and about five month after leaving Port Royal we reached Shanghai."

* * *

_Shanghai, 1692_

Waking up next to Jack had become a rare occasion during their voyage to Shanghai so Rowan enjoyed the intimate moment, but even more she enjoyed the warmth of his body. Shivering she snuggled up closer to him. Why had no one reminded her of how cold that part of China could be in winter? Luckily, Jack was always warm. It seemed to her as if his skin had absorbed the Caribbean sun and stored its heat only to radiate it on a cold Chinese winter morning. That alone was reason enough to love him and to wish she could grow old with him. Of course that wasn't the only reason.

She opened her eyes to glance at his slack features, once again surprised how peaceful and innocent an infamous pirate captain could look when sound asleep. Her fingertips started to trail along the thin lines of the tattoo on his right arm, an image of a flying sparrow against sunrise. It was so good to feel his warm flesh, the cords of solid muscles running beneath his bronzed skin. Though he didn't have an overly athletic shape he was nevertheless well built, a slender body formed by years of hard work aboard pirate's vessels, tanned by sun and wind. Rowan couldn't help but touch him, just for the joy of touching him. Her hands wandered down his chest, caressing the scars two bullets had left there. They were a constant reminder of the dangerous life he lived and each scar told a different story.

Shifting her head she bestowed kisses upon the soft skin of his neck as the nibbled her way up to his earlobe. Silently she whispered his name.

Though Jack was known as a light sleeper- usually he even slept with a pistol under his pillow- he didn't wake up. Rowan propped herself up on one elbow and bent over him. He wrinkled his nose as a whisk of her hair came loose, tickling it, and a contented smile curled up his lips. She kissed that smile, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions.

The weather had conspired against them lately, heavy storms with ice cold rain and sleet had kept them apart for almost two weeks but until now she hadn't been aware just how much she had missed him. Soon the touch of her hands became more daring and less playful. They danced across the tight muscles of his belly, heading further downwards his body.

"Tryin' to seduce a sleepin' pirate, luv?" Jack slurred with a husky voice, still sounding very sleepy.

"Well, ye fell asleep last night..."

Rowan couldn't finish her sentence as Jack took her by surprise and flipped her over so that she was lying flat on her back underneath him now.

"Sorry, darlin'. I swear that'll never happen again."

He drowsily brushed her lips with his but Rowan could feel the evidence pressed against her thighs that not all parts of him were in a sleepy mood. Wantonly she raised her hips. Nevertheless Jack took his time and kissed her very gently; it seemed to be a very promising way to start a cold winter day... if there hadn't been a disturbing knock on the door.

"Jack? Rowan? Are you decent? May I come in?"

"**No**!" The two pirates barked in unison at Will's request.

Rowan wrapped her legs around Jack's waist, telling him without words to continue what they had started and forget about the annoying disturbance.

"Give us…" Jack paused to look at her and grinned. "Give us at least an hour."

They could hear Will Turner cursing silently behind the closed door, then he said aloud. "But you are aware that we are supposed to meet my father today."

"Aye." Rowan sighed. Of course she was aware of that fact, but if Bill was still in that Buddhist monastery where they had left them he surely wouldn't run away within the next hour. Except he knew his son could be a real pain in the ass sometimes… She thought of a way to keep young Mr Turner from lingering at her door. "Go 'n try to find us a carriage meanwhile."

Jack chuckled. "Oh, yer such a lovely little devil. How should the poor lad rent a carriage without speaking any Chinese at all? That's nigh impossible."

"I know. That's why I sent him." Rowan smiled with faked innocence and fluttered her dark lashes at him. "Now, where did we stop?"

Not quite an hour later there was another knock on the door.

"Jack! Rowan! I have found us a carriage." Will Turner yelled cheerfully.

Rowan rolled her eyes. The idea of leaving Jack's warm embrace didn't suit her at all but she also remembered the promise she had given the lad. She had promised to take him to that monastery and his father. Actually she was looking forward to meet Bill again, too. It had been such a long time.

She got up and dressed quickly when she noticed that Jack still made no efforts to leave the bed.

"Get up ye lazy sod or d'ye wanna stay in bed all day?"

"Ah, that's a tempting idea, luv though it would be much nicer if ye could stay as well." The pirate purred and stretched out in bed comfortably.

"Ye're not coming with me?" Rowan asked but it was a superfluous question since it had already dawned on her that he wouldn't. "Are ye still mad at Bill?"

"I just don't wanna overtax him with meeting his son believed to be dead, his mighty pregnant daughter-in-law… ye know it will be quite a shock for him to realize he will be grandfather soon when he still hasn't digested the fact that his son is not dead, so he doesn't need me of all people to be around as well, savvy?"

"You are still mad at him for not avoiding the mutiny."

"No, no. I'm not." Jack knew at once that that wasn't enough to convince Rowan so he sighed and added, "It's got nothing to do with whether** I'm** mad at Bill but rather that **he's** probably mad at me. I just don't wanna spoil his day."

Rowan wanted to interject that Bill had never uttered a bad word about Jack Sparrow but then she remembered that they had hardly ever talked about him at all. Probably that had been Santiago's order, given that the Spaniard had no good word to say for him. So they had avoided that topic except for the one day she and Bill had both been chasing the dragon and that didn't count much; actually she couldn't remember anything of that drug-clouded conversation anymore. Nevertheless she was sure that Bill would be glad to see Jack again.

Jack, however, wasn't so sure. He sighed, remembering the harsh, rude and simply unjust words he had yelled at Bill when they had met last time. Their friendship was definitely shattered beyond repair.

"I haven't told ye all about the mutiny yet, how it happened and why I got involved with Barbossa at all…" A very impatient knock on the door told Jack that this was **not** the opportune moment to confess the truth. He grimaced. "Well, ye better go now before our eager young friend breaks the door. Ask Bill to tell ye the story."

Rowan didn't have much time to wonder about the events that had occurred then because present events required her attention. Though Will had found a carriage he hadn't been able to tell the coachman where they wanted to go so when she told him he tried to cheat her with a ridiculously high charge she wasn't willing to accept. The negotiations proved to be quite difficult since she hadn't spoken Chinese for quite a while and the coachman seemed to have a lot of fun in deliberately misunderstanding her. Finally they agreed on a price that was still much too high but only for Elisabeth's sake. If she hadn't been sitting in that damned carriage already and if carriages weren't so rare in Shanghai Rowan would have told the Chinaman to go to hell in her most polite way.

"I didn't know you speak Chinese so well." Elisabeth chirped with admiration when the carriage finally set in motion. She made herself comfortable and looked out of the window, eagerly taking in her first impressions of Shanghai. "Oh, and I really like the Chinese people, they are so polite, always smiling."

Rowan rolled her eyes. Elisabeth had just proved that she didn't know anything about these slit-eyes at all. They would even smile when they call your mother a whore every man in town had screwed and they would still smile when they were called son of a mangy bitch. In fact, exchanging curses was all she was really good at regarding the Chinese language.

"Oh, look at these cute little puppies!" Elisabeth pointed out of the window. The carriage was just passing the market place of Shanghai and they could see people carrying bamboo cages with all different sorts of animals, including young dogs. "I didn't know that Chinese were so fond of dogs!"

_Aye, especially fried with garlic and ginger_, Rowan thought cynically but she spared herself telling that Elisabeth. She simply didn't want to mess up her pretty little world where people bought dogs as pets for their kids, like Elisabeth continued to chirp.

"Will, darling, now wouldn't it be so nice to have such sweet puppy when our child is born? I love dogs. They can be so cute- given they're well raised of course. I remember when being in England I always had pets. I had a pony and kittens but unfortunately I couldn't take them to the Caribbean when my father was promoted."

"We'll buy a puppy, if that's what you want my dearest." Will promised and he sealed that promise with a gentle kiss, absolutely adoring his wife.

A bit fed up with that sweet family idyll Rowan leant her head against the window frame and pretended to concentrate on the landscape passing by after the carriage had left the borders of Shanghai. But she didn't saw much of it since her mind was still preoccupied with Bill and Jack, Jack and Bill. What had transpired between the two of them? She guessed that this was something the legends about Captain Jack Sparrow would never tell so she wondered whether Bootstrap Bill Turner would tell her and- most importantly, when. When would be the opportune moment to talk about Jack without blurting things out? After all, Bill still had to cope with the fact that his son wasn't dead at all and that he also would be a grandfather soon.

The monastery was a peaceful place that seldom saw visitors within its old walls but the monks welcomed their unexpected guests with friendly gestures and hospitality. Rowan breathed a sigh of relief; it always seemed to her the serene atmosphere of this place had a certain magic that could lift all the weight off your shoulders and left you feeling relaxed and completely at peace with yourself. Her initial nervousness dissolved when an old monk led her though quiet corridors to the library where she was supposed to find Bill Turner. She had reached an agreement with Will that she was to talk with his father first before they would finally get a chance for the longed-for family reunion. But how should she tell him that his son who he believed to be dead was alive and waiting for him?

The old monk opened the door to the library for her and she thanked him with a humbled _wai_, hands folded at the level of her front in a gesture of respect. Then he left her so it was all up to her now.

Bootstrap Bill Turner was so focussed on the script he was reading he didn't even notice her presence, which gave Rowan the opportunity to study him for a moment. When she had met Will for the first time she could have sworn he resembled his father a lot, almost looked just like him. Now she changed her mind. Well, their features were quite alike but even when Bill was younger he had never looked so care-free pretty as his son did; there had always been lines in his face that told the story of the hard life he was leading ever since he had been forced to join the Royal Navy for a crime that hadn't really been one. And though it had probably never been his intention to become a pirate he definitely looked like one. A pirate dressed in the orange garbs of a Buddhist monk but with earrings and tattooed arms. His dark hair was much shorter than the last time she had seen him and the white strands at his temples were clearly visible now, nevertheless the years had done no harm to his attractiveness. He was still a very handsome man.

"'ello, ye scurvy villain." Rowan said quietly.

His head darted up and he stared at her in disbelief. "Rowan? My, it's really you!"

Bill surprised her by hugging her with an outburst of emotions she had never expected of him since he had always been more the restraint guy. Then he held her at arm's length to have a closer look at her, brushing away a whisk of hair from her face. "It's so good to see you. But you're not here on your own, are you? Where's Santiago? Blast, you look absolutely stunning. Who's the lucky devil to blame for it?"

Rowan didn't know which question to answer first; it would have taken to long to tell him all and Will was waiting impatiently to finally meet his father. "Um…I think ye should better sit down again..."

"Why? What's wrong?"

She waited until he had taken seat before she confronted him with the facts. "Nothing's wrong but… Bill, I've found yer son."

His tanned and weathered face went deadly pale. "That's nothing to jest about, Rowan. My son's dead. He died on his way to the Caribbean when pirates attacked the ship he was on. You know that, you have been with me the day I found out."

"That's what we believed nevertheless it's not the truth. Will was the sole survivor and he got fished out off the sea by a Royal Navy ship called the Dauntless, heading for Port Royal where he lived ever since. D'ye wanna see him now?"

"He's here?" Bill gasped breathlessly, anticipation, shock and joy all mingled in his words. His eyes moistened.

"Aye."

"And you're sure he really is my son?"

"Wait till ye see him. Besides, it was his blood, the blood of a Turner, that lifted the curse- but that's another story."

"Blast, seems you came here with a bag of stories you have to tell me."

Rowan just smiled and headed for the door to call Will who almost stormed into the room, followed by Elisabeth.

"Father!"

Obviously Bill Turner was slightly overtaxed with that situation. Last time he had seen Will the lad had been three years old and now he faced a grown up man who definitely looked like a younger version of himself but who was nevertheless a stranger to him. Though they hugged each other tightly there was a moment of embarrassed silence when Will eyed his father curiously. He probably remembered him looking different- or at least less like a pirate.

"You have grown." Bill said with a husky voice, knowing that that was a stupid thing to say. He sure had a million questions but didn't know where to start. Then his gaze fell on the fair and apparently very pregnant lady that had entered the room with his son. "Oh, and you've found yourself a girl…"

"Father, I'd like you to meet my wife, Elisabeth Turner née Swann."

"You're married?"

It was more an observation than a question but Will nodded proudly.

"And you're making me a grandfather. Well that's… Blast, am I really that old?"

"Why don't ye all sit down, have a cup of tea together and start getting to know each other?" Rowan interfered since she feared that one of the Turners might soon faint in a sudden outburst of emotions and that wouldn't be Elisabeth. She handled the situation with her natural charm that had already won the old scallywag Bootstrap for her. So once the Turner family was safely seated Rowan sensed she wasn't needed anymore and slipped silently out the room.

Rowan took a walk in the garden of the monastery, letting her thoughts roam. Though father and son were happy to have found each other again after all those years, she feared their relationship would become a difficult one because they were so different. Will might have pirate blood in his veins but in his heart he was a landlubber; he loved his wife more than the sea or new horizons. Bill however was every inch a pirate; he had seen the world and had learned to know the blackest depths of the human soul. She could imagine him converting to Buddhism but she could not imagine him living the life Will and his wife were leading- or having dinner with Governor Swann. And then there was still Jack… there was always Jack to be considered…

She knew that one of Bill's reasons for chasing the dragon had been the loss of a dear friend and for years she had thought said friend was dead yet it had proven he was only hushed up by Santiago. The Spaniard had always tried hard to avoid mentioning Jack Sparrow's name. But whatever had happened between Bill and Jack, Bill was not an unforgiving man (and in the end Santiago hadn't been one as well). As for Jack- well, he could be such a stubborn, daft idiot sometimes; nonetheless he had a good heart.

Rowan reached a small pond that would be crowned with lotus flowers in the summer, arched about it was a marble bridge and at each side stood benches, inviting you to sit down and relax. So she sat down. Here in the plain of the Yangtze River delta, away from the sea and its bitter cold winds, the midday sun felt warm on her face. She closed her eyes. No matter how peaceful the monastery was anyway, this place was absolutely an oasis of tranquillity.

Not for very long though. To her it seemed only a few minutes had passed but in fact she had been sitting there for almost an hour when she suddenly heard someone calling her name. She opened her eyes and blinked, blinded by the pale winter sun. A moment later the shadow of a man fell upon her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Bill yelled at her.

"What?"

"Blast! About you and Sparrow, for example!" Tensed, Bill ran his fingers through his hair before he continued with a low, somehow sad sounding voice. "That he's got his Pearl back. That you came to Shanghai together. That he of all people is the guy you're in love with. So where is he now? Why didn't he accompany you? He doesn't wanna see me, right? Does he still bear a grudge against me, after all those years?"

Rowan was so taken aback when Bill sat down next to her, burying his head in his hands, that she really didn't know what to say let alone to answer all of his questions. She had thought meeting his son believed to be dead was the only thing that could shatter a man like Bootstrap Bill Turner but apparently the news about Jack shattered him even more.

"You should have told me." He said accusingly without looking up.

"Bill, we didn't wanna overtax ye with the situation, savvy. Besides, Will was so keen to meet you he couldn't endure to wait any longer and the story about Jack and me would have been a long one to tell."

Bill sighed a deep breath. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should be grateful you gave me the chance to meet my son and not behave like an ungrateful old fart. But… you know, when William mentioned Captain Jack Sparrow and the Black Pearl, I… I was so overwhelmed with all kinds of mixed emotions."

"Ah, and just how mixed are yer emotions exactly?" Rowan asked cautiously. "Mixed in the sense of not knowing where to punch him first when ye meet him?"

"Why should I do that?" He looked at her in confusion and then it dawned on him that she didn't know much about him and Jack- or only Jack's point of view. Well, of course only Jack's point of view. "So he's still mad at me?"

"He thinks ye're mad at him."

"I've never been, at least not for long. Rowan, you know him. Now tell me, could you ever be angry with him despite of his sometimes annoying manners?"

Rowan spontaneously cracked a smile and shook her head.

"See, I've never met a guy who could win others so easily with his roguish charm therefore I could possibly not be mad at him anymore if I ever was. Besides, I've been living with the most gentle people in the most peaceful place on earth for some years so it's very unlikely I could bear a grudge against anyone in the world."

"Great, so no blood's gonna be spilled today. Now, would ye please be so kind to fill me in what had transpired between the two of ye?"

"Jack didn't tell you?"

"Nope."

"Well, I'm sure he's gonna tell you as soon as you return. I just hope you will keep in mind that I'm not as bad guy as he will possibly portray me…"

"Alright, that's enough!" Rowan was losing patience so she grabbed Bill and gave him a good shake. "Listen mate, I have no intention of being tossed around between you and Jack simply because none of you have the guts to tell me what I want to know, so- to cut it short- I suggest we will meet aboard the Jewel for a cosy family dinner tonight, including Jack and myself. What d'ye say?"

Bill winced and writhed with discomfort at the idea of leaving this place of utmost tranquillity; he simply wasn't prepared for it. After all, he had spent a couple of years in perfect isolation from the world, never receiving any visitors until today. And what a shock that had been. All of a sudden he was a father again, he would even be grandfather soon. He had a family now therefore he couldn't stay in the monastery any longer; his son deserved the father he had always had to miss. And if that wasn't enough to deal with there was still Captain Jack Sparrow. Jack. The friend he had lost the day when things got out of control and went dreadfully wrong. Nevertheless it was hard to leave.

"Alright. Tell Will that we're gonna have dinner aboard the Jewel. I…just give me a moment to talk to master Chang…"

-

Captain Jack Sparrow was bored- something that had never happened to him when they had docked in any harbour town of the world. Usually he had always found a perfectly good way to spent his time but usually that had always included a willing strumpet sitting on his lap and lots of rum. Unfortunately you couldn't get any proper rum in Shanghai's taverns and he wasn't very keen on plum wine- too sweet and sticky, and it gives you a killer headache. The Chinese girls however were also sweet, very pretty and definitely cleaner than others working in that same old trade, but the pleasure of getting involved with one of them would probably give him far worse than just a killer headache. He had never been unfaithful to Rowan ever since the day he had met her and he simply didn't want to find out how she would react if he betrayed her. Somehow it was scary. The infamous Captain Jack Sparrow had become a true and faithful lover who had bedded no other woman but Rowan Scarlett for more than half a year now. And though temptation was lurking everywhere he didn't even feel the need to screw someone else for a change, which was even more scary.

So instead of having fun he had decided to sell the bulk of their plunder to one of the local dealers for- as he preferred to say- not quite legally acquired goods. He knew Ill Young and his weakness for all kinds of foreign, preferably western stuff, so he made a good deal in selling him cotton from South American colonies for a price the more valuable silk was sold here. That should have cheered up his mind but it didn't. Since Anamaria had left the Pearl to live with Marris aboard the Jewel he had found no one else with her skills in dealing with numbers. Before, it had been her job calculating how much share of the plunder each faithful sailor of his crew would get and now that annoying waste of time got stuck on him again. Ungrateful wench. After all he'd done for her- like giving her a respectable position aboard his ship- she had abandoned him only to run away with the first fellow who claimed to love her_… Nah, don't be unfair,_ he told himself then, rubbing his temples as he wasn't used to this stupid kind of work, _Marris is a good guy and he loves her dearly, he'd even proposed to her. Ah, how I'd liked to see Ana's face… It was said she slapped him first, then thought about it, kissed him and accepted. Now they only have to find a preacher man to seal their bond…Would I ever wanna do that?_

The idea itself was so absurd that he chuckled. He was Captain Jack Sparrow; he had a reputation to keep and he certainly wouldn't keep it by marrying the first wench that had ever managed to touch his heart. He flipped his logbook shut and grabbed a bottle of rum from his cabinet, relaxing when the clear brown liquid ran down his throat, warming his insides. Nonetheless the idea remained and became less absurd the more he longed for Rowan. Was there any reasonable reason why she wasn't here now? After all they had dropped anchor so she didn't have to care for her ship or her crew. But then again there was Bill, Bootstrap Bill Turner. She had promised to reunite father and son.

Jack's thoughts stayed off to the past when he and Bill still had been friends though he couldn't help but wonder if they had ever been true friends. His heart told him so but his suspicious mind reminded him of a serious breach of trust, since Bill had always disguised the circumstances of their first meeting. It had been the day he had taken his first glance on the most perfect ship he'd ever seen and immediately had fallen in love with that dark lady, his beloved Black Pearl. That day had been a proof for love at first sight… yet stumbling down that damned step in the 'Prancing Dragon' and literally falling straight into the arms of the prettiest and most colourful female pirate captain he'd ever laid eyes on had proved even more that love at first sight was realistic although it wasn't necessarily on the agenda of a pirate's heart.

Where the hell was she now? Handing over the whelp to his father and come back couldn't possibly take so long. He leant back in his chair, put his feet on the table and took a generous swig of rum.

-

Sometimes Rowan found it hard to understand Will Turner. He hadn't felt very comfortable in the presence of Buddhist monks and seemed to be quite keen to leave the peaceful tranquillity of the monastery in favour for returning to Shanghai's noisy dock area. Apparently profoundly smiling Buddha statues and the mild happiness of the monks had startled him or he simply wasn't accustomed to it, given that most clerics of the Church of England never managed to look happy. Perhaps he even saw Buddhism as some sort of pagan cult. Poor lad. Well, it must seam very strange and exotic to him since he had hardly ever left the town of Port Royal- except for his little adventure in piracy to save Elisabeth- thus he hadn't seen much of the world yet. After all, he was a blacksmith and his friendship with Jack was the only thing that blotted his copybook.

Rowan watched father and son on their way back to town. Bill made an attempt to explain how living with Buddhist monks had changed his life that had been in a complete mess before but Will kept on chatting about their voyage to Shanghai, including the progress of Elisabeth's pregnancy. In fact, most of all he was babbling about Elisabeth's pregnancy and his father just listened to him with a stupid smile on his face. Maybe it reminded Bill what it had been like when his wife had been pregnant and how proud he had been then, but Rowan was beginning to feel increasingly bored with all of that sweet family talk. Impatiently she thumbed at the roof of the carriage, indicating the coachman to better hurry up.

Dusk was already falling when they reached the docks. In the pale golden light of an ending winter day in China the two black pirate vessels looked absolutely magnificent; two dark silhouettes standing proud in their beauty against the shimmering twilight. Silvery waves caressed their hulls and the brass embellishments aboard reflected golden sparks. It was an almost surrealistic sight that made Rowan gasped in admiration at her Jewel while Bill stared in awe at the Pearl.

"My, she's so beautiful." His eyes moistened for the second time today as he walked closer, affectionately patting the dark wood of the Pearl, whispering quietly. "Hey my pretty lady, I've missed you…"

"Is my father really talking to a ship?" Will wondered aloud. Concerned he looked at Rowan, one arm protectively wrapped around Elisabeth's shoulder.

Rowan frowned. _No, he will never understand the love of a sailor for his ship, or the sea_. _He's a bloody landlubber, a blacksmith. Elisabeth might have romantic ideas about the pirate blood in his veins- but that was only a drop in the ocean. None of **them** would ever understand the **soul **of a ship, and the ships Santiago had built definitely had more soul than any others; they were almost alive…_ once again she remembered the day she first had taken over the helm of the Pearl and had been greeted by a _presence._

Distracted by her thoughts she nearly failed to notice that Bill had walked up the gangway and entered the deck. Damned! She had wanted to prepare Jack for meeting him but apparently the course of events had already set its own way. After all, Bill had promised that there would be no bloodshed today... then she heard a startling, banging noise from Jack's cabin.

"Ah, ye're finally back…"

Jack Sparrow had expected Rowan to enter his cabin but when he saw Bootstrap Bill Turner instead, he stared at him as if he was seeing a ghost; a ghost from his past. Filled with mixed emotions he wanted to jump to his feet. Unfortunately his feet were still on the table and the chair he had tipped back and forth was getting fed up of being misusing as a rocking chair. He wasn't sure whether he had lost balance or if that bloody thing had just thrown him off like a stubborn horse, but as a result he landed on his backside. Sitting on the floor, the leftovers of what used to be a chair spread around him, he looked up to Bill and then to the bottle of rum still in his hands.

"Bloody hell! Ye mangy son of a bitch- I almost spilled me rum!"

"Aye, I'm also pleased to meet you, stupid wanker!"

Bill couldn't help but chuckle at that sight though that was nothing compared with Rowan's reaction. She came rushing in, worried first, but when she saw that scene she immediately burst out into a silly, almost hysterical laughter.

"May I ask what's so funny, luv?" Jack snarled, pointing his index finger at her. "Stop that. Now."

He tried to look dignified despite the state he was in therefore there was no way to stop laughing. If possible, her hilarious giggling increased even more until tears were running down her cheeks when Bill reached out his hand which Jack defiantly refused with the remark that he wasn't that old, and thanks, he could get to his feet on his own. Whereupon Bill casually claimed it had never been his intention to help, he'd only been keen on a swig of rum and he took the bottle from the pirate's hands. The expression on Jack's face was indescribable.

"Hey, ye bastard can't just come walking in after all those years 'n steal me rum!"

"I'm still a pirate." Bill grinned and took a generous sip of rum before he handed the bottle back to Jack who had risen from the floor meanwhile.

"Ye look like a bloody monk. By the way, orange doesn't suit ye at all."

"Please forgive me for not dressing properly when meeting the filthy King of Egoism and Arrogance, His Selfishness Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Ah, now that's a good one. But let's forget the courtesies 'n have a drink instead. What d'ye say?"

"Damned, I've really missed you Jack…_ass_."

Rowan didn't know what exactly she had expected from that first meeting between Jack and Bill after nearly twelve years- probably a more explosive outbreak of emotions. Well, not as sentimental as the father and son reunion had been but something more rough, combined with a lot of shouting, bitter accusations and mayhap even with the help of their fists. But for some reason they contained themselves, trying hard not to give away any of their feelings, although Rowan could almost _see _their inner turmoil. She had thousands of questions yet there seemed to be an unspoken agreement that that had to wait until later, when the family dinner was over.

Dinner aboard the Jewel was a far less entertaining event than the idea had first promised. Of course Will was still not accustomed to Rashid's way of cooking but he disguised his disgust for the Asian cuisine by trying to tell his father every moment of his twenty-one years on a single evening. Rowan didn't blame him for that. She could even understand him a little since it was obvious how much he had longed for his father. The problem was that Will's life hadn't been very spectacular until the day he had met Jack and she'd already heard every detail of that adventure. Also she was neither interested in the daily routine of a blacksmith nor in his admiration for Elisabeth which seemed to be his main topic. Bill listened with more interest though his thoughts strayed off occasionally, especially when his gaze fell on Jack who was unusually quiet. Silently he picked at his food before he decided that rum was more nourishing. Elisabeth made a remark from time to time but most of all she was too busy with eating to say a word- after all, she had to feed two. Fortunately she grew tired soon and since Will was a very caring man they left shortly after.

The cabin door had scarcely closed behind them when Rowan bent across the table and stared straight into Jack's eyes

"Now. Tell me."

Apparently lost in thoughts he trailed down the line of her cheek with one calloused thumb, making her involuntarily shiver.

"Ev'rythin' ye want, luv, but what exactly are ye alludin' to?" He slurred.

"Why, about ye 'n Bill of course."

"Ah, that." Jack looked from Bill to Rowan and back. "So ye haven't told her?"

Bill shook his head. "I haven't."

"Scared of telling the truth, mate?"

"Mayhap I wanted to give you the chance to tell the truth."

The eyes of the two pirates locked as if they were fighting an inner battle and it was absolutely not recognizable what was going on in their minds. Rowan felt excluded, therefore she was getting impatient and slightly fed up with the situation. Finally she thumped her fist on the table to startle them, making them aware that they were not alone in **her** cabin.

"Actually I don't mind who's telling me what as long as ye finally fill me in!"

"Sorry luv… well, where shall I start?"

"How about the beginning?"

"Lady smart ass, aye?" Jack took a swig of rum before he pointed his index finger accusingly at Bill. "That miserable bastard had wormed himself into me confidence and feigned friendship when in truth he'd only been sent to spy on me."

"My friendship to you was never feigned, Jack..."

"But our ever so _coincidental_ first meeting was."

"Aye, that's right." Bill sighed wearily and addressed Rowan. "Do you still remember the day I left?"

She nodded. After they had saved Bill from the cruelty of the Royal Navy he had sail with them aboard the 'Chica'- a pretty sloop and her first ship although Santiago had been in command of it- for almost two years before he had said goodbye to her from one day to another without giving any explanation.

"I never knew why. Was it because of me?"

"Why should he?" Jack wondered mildly confused. "I'm sure ye must have been an absolutely cute little girl."

"Oh, cute she was- but also really depraved…"

"Well, the cute little girl grew up in a brothel and not in a convent, so it's no surprise she asked for things good girls shouldn't. She was always curious what pirates made so edgy when reaching a harbour and she found it mighty unfair when the crew paid for the service of a certain lady as a present for Marris' fourteenth birthday, while she only got some books and the lousy advise to keep her virginity as long as possible- which simply wasn't on my mind. I wanted to find out what's going on between men and women, and I thought Bill could show me…"

"What?" Jack nearly fell off his chair. "All of that happened because Alf feared for yer virtue? That's why he chose Bill to spy on me?"

Rowan shrugged. "Didn't help much though. When Bill was gone I asked Marris… but that's another story and certainly not one I'm gonna discuss with ye scurvy villains. So, what's all this spying on about? How did ye two meet, coincidentally or not?"

"Um…" Jack was lost in thoughts again. He wished he had known her then, when she was such a depraved, precocious lass- without doubt **he** would have shown her what she had been so keen to know about. He chuckled quietly. _Perhaps Alf had feared for Bill's virtue…_ But well, at the moment she was impatiently waiting to hear the story about him and Bill. He cleared his throat. "Alright, I met Bill the day I first laid eyes on the Pearl. I was first mate on the 'Mermaid' then, Captain Samuel Davies' ship, but the old scallywag had just dared to die because of an old would that had never healed properly. So we were about to give him his last rest in Davy Jones' locker- and I'm damned sure the crew would have chosen me to become their new captain- when I suddenly spotted the dark silhouette of a ship on the horizon. Well, despite the tragic loss we had just experienced I thought it would be a good idea to start me first job as captain of a pirate vessel with a promising raid and in the end I got more I ever bargained for…"

There was a dreamily expression in his eyes that soon took over his whole face when he described his first sight of the Black Pearl, her dark shimmering wood in the twilight, her proud masts, her black sails. Yet, they should have been filled with wind instead of flapping uselessly against the masts. "Actually she looked like a ghost ship- deserted. Nonetheless she was the most beautiful ship I've ever seen and if there'd ever been a ship more appropriate for the most infamous pirate captain I was about to become one day than it was her; she almost screamed to be **mine**."

Looking at Bill he sighed and shrugged. "Well I should have paid better attention to the circumstances in which I got her, aye? The fact that such a beauty was drifting around 'n just waiting for me to claim her as my own without any resistance should have made me wary but it didn't, then. Instead I met the sole survivor of her crew locked in the brig and I believed his incredible story. What was it again that ye told me, Bill?"

"What I told you then doesn't matter now since that had been blatant lies; I do admit that. But- Santiago just couldn't have wrapped a big red ribbon around the Pearl's hull, adding a card that reads, happy birthday Jack and I hope you enjoy my little gift, savvy?"

"Ye should've told me it was him who sent ye!"

"I wanted but I couldn't. Blast, Santiago had saved my life so I owed him a favour. When he asked me to take on a task for him I had to agree, and he particularly instructed me not to tell you. Also, he'd never asked me to make friends with you. That just happened. Listen Jack, I liked you the first moment we met. My, I've never met a man who's as mad as you, so full of crazy ideas and dreams- oh, and so full of yourself. But you gave me sea legs. It had never been my intention to become a sailor- once, I've been sentenced to serve the Royal Navy, then I was saved by pirates and had no other chance but to join them if I wanted to survive. Yet no matter how long I've stayed aboard either ship before it was only you who made me love the sea. You made me long for endless horizons and undiscovered shores."

Both men fell silent, apparently letting their thoughts roam to a past when they had still been friends, partners in crime. Rowan could see that Jack's tensed features relax a bit and considered that as a good sign. Nevertheless she was still curious how this story ended, how they fell apart.

"What happened then?"

Bill breathed a deep sigh. "Well, one day I opened my mouth too wide and the wrong words slipped out. Santiago had warned me once not to tell him about the circumstances of our meeting but I've wondered ever since what had transpired between the two of them or why Jack knew the Spaniard at all."

"Aye, and I was kinda upset when he suddenly mentioned Alf." Jack confessed.

"Upset? You were fuming. My, I've never expected you could get so nuts with fury…"

"Damned, ye cheated me. I thought ye were me friend, I trusted ye. But then I had to find out that our so called friendship had been arranged at long hand, by Alf. Once again he'd interfered in my life and I was definitely pissed off with that."

"Yeah, you were so pissed of with good willing and loyal men that you sacked the whole crew including me at the next best harbour only to get involved with Barbossa and his crew of miscreants. Great choice, Jack."

"You got involved with Barbossa because Bill had been sent by Santiago years ago?" Rowan gasped in disbelief. "How daft 's that?"

"That's typical Jack. Barbossa flattered him and that's all His Stubbornness needed."

"Well, at least I could be sure he wasn't paid by Alf..." Jack defended himself defiantly.

"Blast! Barbossa raised a mutiny, pinched your ship and marooned you on a godforsaken island- I'm damned sure Santiago wouldn't have paid for that; he didn't pay me at all and you know that. You also know that my friendship to you was never faked. So stop behaving like a defiant kid now. Both of us have made mistakes- you as well as I- but I've learned to admit mine. I had the opportunity to think about every aspect of my life while living in monastic seclusion, and though you're a daft, ignorant, eccentric fool there was not a single day I didn't miss you. If I could turn back time I would probably change a lot of things but I neither regretted the day I met you nor the years of adventures we shared."

"Alright, let's raise our glasses 'n drink to the adventures of Captain Jack Sparrow and Bootstrap Bill Turner!"

Rowan rolled her eyes. That was Jack Sparrow's way to deal with things. He would probably never say he was sorry nor admit his follies but clinging glasses with Bill and not trying to talk himself out of the situation was as close to an admission of guilt as he could ever give. And though they had never touched that topic specifically she knew he had missed Bill too; sometimes there was more truth in the things he didn't say than in all the stories he's telling. Nevertheless he'd always been honest with her and Bill had definitely learned to look behind his façade of eccentricity and boasting a long time ago. Both of them knew him quite well, so they smiled at each other when Jack simply went over to talking about his latest adventure that got him involved with a certain chalice, a possessed Commodore, and a pretty, red wine haired pirate captain.

After the story of the Chalice of Doom others were told, foremost about earlier adventures of Jack and Bill. With every passing hour and every empty bottle the tension between them eased and the atmosphere became more light-hearted.. Rowan didn't want to claim their friendship was restored this night but it was a promising start.

-

In the next few days it became obvious that Will had only thought about finding his father but he hadn't bothered to think out what it would be like after he'd found him. For sure he wanted an idyllic family life with Elisabeth, his child, and Bill- in Port Royal. Probably he had believed the world to be smaller and that they would make it to Shanghai and back before his child was born but when he looked at Elisabeth now he knew there was no way to return to Port Royal within the next few months or even longer.

Bill, on the other hand, felt torn. Of course he was glad to have a son and a family again, and he wanted to spend as much time as possible with them. Nevertheless it was hard for him to pack his bag and leave the monastery for good. The decision would have been easier to take if the promise had been to sail away aboard the Black Pearl with Jack, discovering new horizons that only waited for them, instead of having to look for a house in Shanghai he could rent for his family. Finally he found one but unfortunately that was hardly welcomed with open arms by Elisabeth and he had clearly underestimated the influence she held on his son- actually he wasn't even included in their decision.

"Will, you can't expect **me** to give birth to **our **first child in **this** town." She fumed after Will had told her the news. Though they had visited said house and thought it appropriable she still had reservations against the idea of staying in Shanghai itself. "Look, the Chinese are definitely nice people but no one here speaks English. I will need a midwife to stand by me and a Chinese speaking midwife won't be any help at all. And what if I will even need a doctor? I haven't seen any hospital here yet."

"My father said he had acquired some skills in traditional Chinese medicine. He said…"

"William Turner!" Elisabeth cut him short with a sharp tone. "Do you really want to endanger my life and that of your child by trusting your father's skills in some dubious form of medicine? Nothing against your father but please do consider the risks. So much that can go wrong- some women even die in childbirth."

"Hush, darling, don't worry. It's not good for you. You know I'd do everything to see you safe and sound, do you?"

"I do. So please tell your father that it was a nice idea of him to rent that house but we're not going to stay in Shanghai. There must be a more civilized town in Asia, a colony with people who understand our language, with a hospital and doctors- and a church. After all, our child has to be baptized once it's born."

"Of course, my love." Will only wanted the best for his wife and his still unborn child, and that also included a proper start into social life by baptism. "I will talk to Jack. I'm sure he knows a decent place where you can give birth to our child."

* * *

"So we left Shanghai and sailed east to find an appropriable place for Elisabeth to give birth to Lydia. Since she likes the Dutch better than the Portuguese Macao was not in question, but Malacca suited her well." A wry smile curled up Jack's lips. "Good choice. Malacca isn't far from Singapore and Singapore is a great place for pirates. Ever been there, Commodore?"

Norrington pulled a disgusted face. "No. And I'm absolutely not interested in going there."

"Ah Jamie ye don't know what ye're missing. Singapore is almost like heaven…" Jack shrugged and sighed. "…whereas Malacca is an unfriendly port. They don't like pirates there."

"Now does that surprise you? But I'm glad to hear you found Elisabeth a decent place to stay."

"Decent? These decadent spice traders showed off with their wealth bluntly and the rich high society bitches stuck up their noses in the air, gossiping when Rowan walked by. _Ooh, scandal, a woman in men's clothes_…"

Norrington had to chuckle. The way Jack Sparrow talked was scandalous but nevertheless incredible funny.

"We only stayed as long as the Turners needed to get settled. Oh, and to find a priest. Ana and Marris wanted to get married but priests today are not what they used to be. We had to be quite drastic in convincing him to perform that marriage- well, actually we had to abduct him- but in the end the two got happily married."

Jack seemed to be really content about that and left Norrington in a dilemma once again. The pirate had just admitted another crime so it should be his duty to arrest him. In the end curiosity outstripped his sense of duty and he pretended he hadn't heard that by quickly changing the topic.

"Since you were not welcomed in Malacca may I assume you sailed to Singapore and drank away your loot there?"

"Just a couple 'o days Commodore. Ye know ye have a really bad image of pirates. We don't pillage and plunder, get drunk and chase whores all the time we're ashore. We also care a lot about our ships and a beauty like the Pearl needs intensive care from time to time. So when the little worm- um, Lydia- was born we celebrated that event and then we sailed to the lovely island of Ko… oh no, I'm not giving away the name of our secret hiding-place. But lemme tell ye that much- the time we spent there was an adventure like I never had before."

Norrington questioning raised a brow.

"Ye know, the everyday life of an infamous pirate captain living with his woman- in a house…"

**author's note**: So here's another chapter. I hope you like it because I'm not so sure about it.

Thanks to Amelia Bones, ellenar and Bonny-pirate-lass (Hey, welcome to my obsession) for reviewing, but I need more reviews to keep going on with this story.

17


	3. The adventure of everyday life

author's note: I know, I know that update took a long time but well, there are a few pages to read. Also, the next update won't be soon either since I'm going to the Caribbean for… research, only for research (of course I'm not going to lay lazily at a beach, no…) I'm thinking of taking my cute little baby laptop along so don't give up on me there will be another chapter (in English)

ellenar: thanks for your patience with all the mistakes I make. And yes, Marris will be part of this story

Andie Anderson + Bonny-pirate-lass: Glad you're still there and I hope you like this one.

xjammi-jessx + Dinogirl15: Welcome to my madness, I hope you stay around for a while

-

Chapter 3- The adventure of everyday life

Commodore Norrington gave Jack a puzzled glance and cleared his throat.

"Ahem, you might have failed to notice but **that is** the common way of living nowadays so you can hardly call it an adventure. All civilized people live in houses, are married and mostly they also have a couple of children."

"Do they? Well, I never cared about common ways so I found it kinda exciting."

Norrington sighed. As he looked the pirate up and down he had to agree that Jack Sparrow apparently did not care about common ways- his eccentricity was so obvious even a blind man could notice it just by the way the beads in his hair jingled when he moved. And move he did, almost constantly. His hands were never at rest gesturing wildly sometimes and with the grace of a snake charmer the next moment.

"But you surely must have lived in a house before."

"Does staying with a whore for more than one night count as living in a house?" Jack mused aloud, smirking at the Commodore who seemed to be quite appalled. "Hey, mate, ye know I'm a pirate and since I'm a pirate I never cared 'bout houses. Who cares 'bout houses anyway when ye can live aboard a ship. See, I can travel the world and yet have all me things around. That's called freedom. Ye can't do that with a house- damned immobile, those things- unless of course ye're a gypsy and yer home is a wagon. They also tend to travel with all their stuff and…"

"Sparrow!"

"Captain. It's _Captain_ Sparrow… though I almost liked it when ye simply called me Jack. It makes our little conversation so much more familiar, doesn't it Jamie?"

James Norrington growled inwardly. That was exactly what he would have preferred to avoid- familiarity with a pirate. But Jack Sparrow had the talent of a snake charmer when it came down to manipulating people and he had become the willing snake. He should remember his position, his duty, the noble family he descended from, instead of listening to the pirate with weird fascination. Though it was unpleasant it was nevertheless the truth. The pirate fascinated him and his curiosity had long overwhelmed his sense of duty. He wanted to know more about Jack. Of course he tried to tell himself that gathering all kinds of information about the infamous pirate captain was part of his job as an officer of the Royal Navy and that he could use these information to take the pirate into custody one day, but on the other hand he knew as well that that day was not very likely to ever come.

"So would you please be so kind and tell me about your life on- what was the name of the island again?"

"Good attempt, Jamie, honestly." Jack snorted amused. "But I'm not so daft to tell ye, a Royal Navy guy, the name of a secret pirate's hideaway- though I really like ye, mate."

The Commodore rolled his eyes. He would appreciated it if the pirate would stop calling him Jamie as it seemed inappropriate to him given their positions on different sides of the law.

"Well, what else but the name of the island ye're interested in?"

"Why don't you simply tell me about your adventurous everyday life? But please do consider that I'm a busy man so I don't have all day to listen to your stories."

"Alright then." Jack swallowed a good amount of whiskey and took a deep breath. "A few weeks after leaving the lovely Turner family in Malacca we reached the Gulf of Siam…"

Norrington called up the map of South-east Asia in his mind's eye and came to the conclusion that Siam was too far away to be in his area of responsibility so he didn't even bother about the name of that island anymore.

"It had been Rowan's idea to sail there. She said she knew a perfectly safe place where we could take care of our ships- ye know, all of that careening stuff that has to be done from time to time- and she had been right about that…"

* * *

_Ko Samui, 1693_

"Land ahoy!" The watch in the crow's nest shouted at the break of day.

Jack Sparrow staggered to the bow and directed his telescope on an archipelago of islands that spread before him in the crystal clear waters of the Gulf of Siam. They were of all different sizes; some were very small, only consisting of a spit of sand and some coconut trees, but the bigger ones were covered with dense rain forest.

His excitement grew as well as a certain sadness increased deep within him, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it. He could still feel Bill's longing look in his back the day the Pearl had left the harbour of Malacca, knowing that his old friend would have loved to sail away with him, but reason and responsibility for his newly found family had kept him ashore. And though Jack had pretended never to have missed Bill at all for more than ten years he definitely missed him now. Of course he hadn't uttered a single word about that fact and yet Rowan had easily figured him out; she just had to look at him with her intensive green eyes and she could read him like an open book. It was still unfathomable to him how she did it but he had every intention in finding that out during the weeks they would need to careen their ships.

At noon they reached the harbour of a large, inhabited island. Jack saw colourful fishing boats bobbing up and down on snow white beaches, houses built of wood with pointed, ornamented gables, covered with palm leaves and the _chedis _ofBuddhist temples. The town was small- in fact it was more like a fishing village that had grown beyond the average size of a fishing village but of course it was still much to small to be called an important seaport. Situated away from the highly frequented trading routes of spice merchants, hardly any bigger ship made berth in Nathon so the town had kept its sleepy and relaxed atmosphere. There were no offices or stores of neither the English nor the Dutch East India Company therefore no fort was overlooking the harbour and no soldiers patrolled the streets. Nathon town on the island of Ko Samui was absolutely free of European authorities- which was good- but unfortunately it also lacked the establishments that pirates were so keen on when going ashore.

The local taverns were mostly crowded with old fishermen talking about fish and drinking a brown liquid that slightly reminded one of whiskey; at least it was as strong. There were no whore houses on Ko Samui but some women with kids in tow greeted members of the Jewel's crew like long missed lovers, proving that it was definitely possible to find personal contact here. And it wasn't only possible but also desired. An elderly, matronly woman soon linked arms with Mr Gibbs and led him to her hot food stall, gibbering that such a good looking man should be much better fed. Poor Mr Gibbs couldn't resist the decisive charm of that lady and flashed a desperate glance to his captain who apparently had a lot of fun watching said scene. Of course that was only before an equally charming woman focussed her interest on him.

"Rowan!" He yelled as he tried to hide behind her. "Help me keep me virtue, luv."

"Hush, don't fear losing something ye never had." Rowan turned around to tug teasingly at the beads in his beard. "Besides, I also don't think Gibbs is in deadly danger…"

"Ah, ye're right." Jack interrupted her with a golden smile. "If I remember it correctly he was worse off before I made him my first mate- after all, he was sleeping with pigs then- so if he won't warm up with that woman mayhap she's got some pigs he can sleep with."

Rowan rolled her eyes but couldn't help chuckling. "Actually I only wanted to point out that to the people here food is just as important as drinking rum is to pirates when it comes down to celebrating, and they do want to celebrate our arrival. Savvy?"

"A party for us? Well, that's mighty nice of them, ain't it? Now that ye mention it I'm already beginning to feel a tad hungry and the smell the sizzling food is absolutely tempting- though…I think I'll better stay close to ye… just in case. Ye know, these fair ladies here never had the chance to meet the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow before …"

"Jack."

"…but I'm sure they've heard of me reputation and…"

"Jack!"

"Aye, luv, what can I do for ye?"

"Just shut up, sweetheart. Ye're much too full of yerself again."

Jack would have protested if Rowan hadn't kissed him. Sometimes that was just the easiest way to stop him from boasting and also the most pleasant one.

Rowan Scarlett was very well known on Ko Samui, this island had been one of Santiago's favourite places so she had spent a fair amount of time here. She liked the hospitality of the Siamese people and their warm-hearted, welcoming smiles. She also liked the food, which was hot and spicy. Of course, some members of the Pearl didn't agree with that as they had never enjoyed Rashid's style of cooking and still had to get accustomed to the taste of South-east Asia but to Rowan it was extremely funny to watch grown up pirates almost bursting out in tears just because of a few chillies. It was even more funny when they tried to extinguish the burning feeling in their mouths with local whiskey of all things.

"My, my that stuff really is an evil brew…" She mused aloud while watching that hilarious scene before she addressed Jack with an innocent look. "…it's even rumoured that Mekong whiskey can make ye blind and impotent."

Jack had just got used to the taste of said whiskey but now he spat it out; spouting, coughing and choking he stared at Rowan. It was a sight that almost made her crack with laughter.

"Just kidding." She sniggered while affectionately patting his back. "Couldn't resist, ye know."

"Damned, ye evil wench nearly scared the guts outta me!"

"Well, I thought you might wanna stop drinking and take a walk down the beach with me so that I can show you…"

Jack arched an ambiguous brow at her. "So ye wanna walk down that dark and apparently quite lonely beach with me? I assume ye also wanna check there was no harm done by drinking that whiskey?"

"Actually I wanna show ye the house."

Jack had already gotten to his feet and offered his hand to Rowan but it was only after they started walking towards the beach when he suddenly grasped her last words. He stopped and she almost bumped into him.

"House? What house?"

"Well, my house… or **our** house- given that ye wanna live with me while we're here."

He gave her a confused look but since that wasn't exactly the reaction she had expected he hurried to say. "'course I wanna live with ye, luv. That's a fantastic idea- but since when do we have a house?"

"Actually we have more than just one." Rowan sighed. "D'ye still remember Santiago's last will?"

After the events at Isla de Muerta they had found a document on the table of Jack's cabin. Apparently Santiago had written it in the certain awareness that his time in the world had come to a near end so he had bequeathed all his belongings to Rowan and Jack, and that also included the houses he owned around the globe.

Jack nibbled at his lower lip He had mourned for the Spaniard in his own way, not showing much emotions on the outside but feeling rather grief stricken inwardly. After all that had happened between him and Alf he still couldn't get accustomed to the fact that the Spaniard had actually included him in his last will since that just didn't seem right to him.

"But we're pirates so why do we need a house at all?" He asked, trying to deal with things in the typical Jack Sparrow way.

"Because we're here to careen our ships and I don't want to sleep at the beach the whole time when I can have a roof over me head and a bed to sleep in." Rowan replied impatiently but then she linked arms with Jack and gave him a brief kiss. "Come on, why don't ye have a look at it first before ye judge it. I promise, it's not that bad living in a house."

They walked on and for a while the soft splashing of waves on the beach was the only sound to be heard. The moon shone from a velvet black sky, painting the foam that curled on the surf like liquid silver. Their pace slowed down as they both got caught by the idyllic and romantic atmosphere of that scenery.

Jack began to nuzzle Rowan's hair, her neck, whispering into her ear. "Now, I can remember a time when ye didn't mind sleeping at the beach, luv."

She remembered it too. He alluded to the time when they had been stranded on an unnamed island, the time she had suddenly realized she'd fallen in love with that bloody scoundrel. And though her feelings hadn't changed her demands had increased.

"Yea but I also remember been breaded with sand and that's not much fun. So what's wrong with a nice and clean bed?"

"Absolutely nothing."

In spite of his words they sank down to the sand in a wild, passionate kiss that blurred their minds for a while but then Rowan came to her senses again. She knew that their relationship would only have a chance to survive if they could master the everyday routine of living together and she'd better find that out soon. Before she gave in to illusions that won't come true in the end. So she got up, wiping the sand from her clothes.

"Alright then, let's go to our house."

"Well it's not that bad, ain't it?" Jack said cheerfully when they reached a landing stage, where a small boat was moored. "We have our own pier, a boat… we could bring our ships here and have our own fleet in our own harbour. What d'ye say, luv?"

Instead of giving an answer Rowan elbowed him softy and pushed him towards the landside. The landing stage led to a natural garden lightened up by lanterns where a few buildings stood between coconut trees and other exotic plants. The houses were made of wood, in the traditional style of this island, with palm leaves covered roofs reaching over the front porches. Because the area was slightly hilly the houses were built on stilts; it was also a precautionary measure. The sea was close but so was the jungle and it's nasty inhabitants like snakes.

"Santiago used to live there." Rowan pointed to the largest house that was erected half the way up the hill, overlooking the bay. Then her hand wandered to the bright windows of another, much smaller building. "That's Marris' home- and apparently now also that of his lovely wife."

Though there was a sharp tone to her last words Rowan had long got used to the fact that her best friend had married a woman she had once loathed. It had been hard for her to have Anamaria sneaking around her ship ever since the day they had left the Caribbean but gradually, in time she had come to admit that Ana really wasn't that bad. In fact she was a good sailor as well as a good pirate and although they would probably never become friends they at least treated each other with polite respect now.

Finally she pointed to the house that was closest to the beach. "Well, and that's mine."

It was a nice house as far as Jack could judge but his judgement based on the simple fact that it was close to the sea. The candles lit on the porch looked inviting and so did the furniture made of bamboo. He could imagine sitting there with Rowan, drinking rum and looking at the sea, especially on such a mild and starry night like this when the full moon painted the waves in shades of deep black and sparkling silver… _Damned!_ A year ago he wouldn't have even wasted a thought about living with a woman and now that idea sounded as promising as it was frightening. Of course he would never admit that- after all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow therefore he was, under no circumstances, frightened. He wasn't growing soft either- or worse, getting old. No, he'd just grow a tad weary of waking up alone when he could have a loving woman warming his bed so why not let himself in for that adventure? It surely would be an interesting new experience.

They had walked up the stairs to the porch but Jack felt no need to go inside the house when everything seemed to be so perfect here. There was that large couch made of bamboo, covered with thick cushions, some candles were burning… actually he only missed one thing. He wrapped Rowan in his arms and kissed her neck so that he could whisper seductively in her ear. "Now, d'ye think there's any chance ye have some rum in the galley of yer lovely house?"

"Oh, Jack, ye're so cute."

He knew that- though cute was probably not the word he had chosen to describe himself- but what he really didn't understand was why she was snickering in such an impudent way. After asking her a couple of times what was so highly amusing about his reasonable request she graciously acquiesced telling him.

"Ye know the usual landlubber simply calls it kitchen."

"What?" Jack raised his index finger and nudged her nose. "Bah, Lady Smart Ass strikes again."

She shrugged, smirking. "Aye, I can't help it. But come on now, lemme show ye the house. I'll tell ye what each room is called. First, there's the living room…"

Whatever each room was called, Jack liked the way she had furnished it because the dark, Asian style furniture would provide a pleasant cool atmosphere when the sun was up. Nevertheless no room made a cold impression because of the many chosen pieces of loot she had decorated them with. She really had a good taste- after all, she had fallen in love with him- but she also proved that in her house by combining rare, beautiful items like old carpets from Persia with ancient Buddha statues and colourful Indian fabrics. And her bathroom was like a dream from Arabian Nights that reminded him that taking a bath could be a lot of fun sometimes.

He winked an eye at her. "How 'bout a bath?"

"Great idea. Go 'n help yerself. There's a bucket, the fountain is just behind the house, and I've already shown ye the kitchen so ye know where to heat the water. I'll be on the porch having a bottle of wine meanwhile. Call me when ye're done."

Jack looked at the bucket and from there to the bath tub, quickly calculation how many times he would have to go to the fountain in order to fill that bloody thing. He came to the conclusion that taking a bath wasn't such a good idea but sitting on the porch with Rowan and having a drink definitely was. She just smiled when he joined her and poured a glass wine to him.

"Ye know, ye're the prettiest lass in the whole damned world when ye smile." He purred into her ear as he snuggled closer.

"Are ye trying to flatter me because ye wanna seduce me, pirate?"

"Aye, luv." Twirling his moustache he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Admit it, ye wanna be seduced by me."

Rowan had closed her eyes in anticipation for a kiss when she suddenly heard someone shouting a very cheerful, "_Jin di khrap_, Miss Scarlett!"

Startled she moved away from Jack and jumped to her feet so she could welcome the elderly Siamese couple approaching the house. At once the woman started to overwhelm her with a swift torrent of words that probably should demonstrate her affection and how much she had missed her but unfortunately Rowan hadn't mastered the Siamese language enough to understand more than a few phrases. Nevertheless she thanked her and her husband who hadn't uttered a world yet but had placed a tray with food on the table instead; it contained skilfully caved vegetables as well as a spicy seafood salad, rice, and other delicious goodies. And since both off them eyed Jack with open interest it was well about time to introduce them to each other.

"Jack, these two lovely persons are Taksin and his wife Ubol, the housekeepers and good souls of this estate. Taksin, Ubol, please welcome my very dear friend Jack Sparrow."

"**Captain** Jack Sparrow, at yer service." The damned scallywag had the nerve to breath a kiss on Ubol's weathered, calloused hand that made her blush like the young girl she once had been. Within a minute he had her completely taken in.

"My, what a charming man." Ubol chirped to Rowan, speaking English now. "Your fiancé? No? Oh, but you really should marry soon, Miss Scarlett."

"Ahem…" Rowan cleared her throat and quickly changed the topic because she noticed that Jack had inwardly grown tense. Now that was understandable for a pirate who loved his freedom; she felt the same. Their relationship was close enough and trying to live an everyday life would be a daring experience even without the shadow of marriage threatening their love.

Jack awoke at dawn when the crowing of a rooster unpleasantly disturbed his sleep. Sleepily he blinked an eye. It was still dark outside but a faint purple glow on the horizon gave a vague idea that a new day was dawning and the stars had faded; the sun wasn't up yet, though. The rooster, however, behaved like mad. Again he blurted out his crow, loud and so dissonant as if he was having a hiccup. _Do roosters have hiccups?_ Jack wondered.

With a sigh he came to lay on his back and longed to be aboard his Pearl, missing the peaceful mornings at sea where no crazy poultry would bother him. There'd only be the splashing of the waves, gently caressing the hull of his ship, the silently creaking of the planks… of course there'd be a muffled curse reaching his ear occasionally, or the bellowed command given by his first mate- but under no circumstances there'd be a bloody rooster crowing at the top of its lungs.

Shadows were forming as the dim dawning light falling though the open window into the room increased, dancing across the thin gauze of the mosquito net that clouded the bed. He turned once more and involuntarily cuddled closer to Rowan's golden tanned form, circling a possessive arm around her waist. She made a content sound but didn't stir in her sleep. He buried his face in her tantalizing red hair and deeply inhaled her scent, marvelling about the fact why it didn't taste or smell like red wine when it looked as if cascades of red wine were flowing over her shoulders… his fingertips followed the course of one unruly strand that had come loose from the others and was curling around her breast. Meanwhile the rooster continued with its cacophony of irritating noises, much to Jack's distress.

"I'll keelhaul ye bloody bird." The pirate hissed repulsively as he raised his head for a moment. Then, too drowsy to take action, he dropped down again and nuzzled his way along the warm curve of Rowan's neck to her ear, whispering. "Are ye awake, luv?"

"Now I'm." She grumbled silently; stretching her limbs still stiff with sleep she opened an eye and blinked at him. Her voice was hoarse and slightly slurring. "What's up? 's there 'n attack, anythin' serious?"

"Actually, there's a rooster drivin' me mad."

"Ah…" Silence. Jack thought she'd unceremoniously fallen asleep again but then he saw her green orbs focussing his dark brown ones and she extended one hand to softly cup his face. "Sure ye can deal wi' that, aye?"

"Aye, sure. I'm just thinking whether I wanna roast 'im or boil 'im once I killed 'im. 'course that depends on how I kill 'im- I could give 'im a mercy killing by firin' just one shot or I could hack 'im to pieces-"

"No!" Suddenly Rowan sat upright and stared at him insistently while listening to the crowing outside. "No- that's Pepe! He's a prized fighting-cock. He had won more fights than any other cock so he's not gonna end up as a fricassee, savvy?"

"Hmpf." Jack sounded neither impressed nor convinced.

"I'll talk to Taksin about locking him in at night, how 'bout that?"

"Well… aye." He ran his fingers through her hair, his mind somewhere else and his eyes had taken a lewd expression as he gazed her up and down. "Well, now, since we're awake anyway and ye're exposing these sweet little breast of yers- almost shoving them into me face, I daresay- why not use the moment for a bit of cuddling?"

Rowan raised a quizzical brow at him. "Ye wanna cuddle? Without any wanton ulterior motives?"

"Nay. Never said that." Jack grinned, tracing along the curve of her breast with his fingers before he gathered her into his arms. "I just like it slow and cosy in the morning, ye know."

It was only mid-morning but the air was already hot and sticky with humidity, the sun burning from a cloudless sky. And the temperature would only go up in the weeks to come, Rowan thought, wiping the sweat from her face. The short walk along the beach from her house to the docks had make her drip with perspiration and the idea of ripping off her clothes and diving into the crystal clear, turquoise water of the sea was a very tempting one. Unfortunately they weren't here for fun. With a sigh she looked at the two dark ships, involuntarily sweating even more at the mere thought of the work that had to be done.

First, they had to unload the ships, lighten them as much of the ballast as possible, before they could haul them onto a beach nearby to scrape the hulls free of algae, barnacles- all the nasty things that could slow down a ship. The process of careening wasn't common for any pirate to do, though; instead of taking care of their vessels most pirates would rather commandeer a new one. But neither Jack Sparrow nor Rowan Scarlet were what one would call a common pirate, and the Black Pearl as well as the Jewel Star were definitely not just ordinary ships.

Rowan breathed a sigh of relief that they had sold most of the plunder they had looted in the past few months, so the hold was relatively empty. Yet, the past had already proven multitude times that the hold of a pirate's ship was never entirely empty. There was always the odd barrel of booze- wisely kept for the emergency issue of a spontaneous celebration- or some booty you couldn't or didn't want to sell for various reasons. Fallen into the dark oblivion below deck it usually came to light at last when the ship was about to be careened. Like the bales of fabric Rowan had collected throughout months or years in order to get some new clothes done, mayhap one day… when she had time and was in the right mood to go to a seamstress… She gave orders to take the fabrics ashore and hand them over to the local seamstress where she would take care of that matter later.

Below deck, the air was stuffy and filled with dust, particles dancing like fireflies in the few lost rays of sunshine that fell in from somewhere. Nevertheless it had been quite cool there compared to the stifling heat of the cabins on the upper deck. Rowan gathered a few things she might need from her cabin before she indecisively turned to the door of Santiago's; she hadn't entered it ever since the events at the Isla de Muerta, when he had sacrificed his life for the sake of Jack's- and hers. Though she knew now that he must have been weary of this world for quite a while, even before said event had transpired, she opened the door very hesitantly, suppressing a great deal of mixed emotions. She had been angry at him, almost raging with fury when she'd found out about his true nature- that of a 246 years old, cursed magician, doomed to live until the curse spoken upon him was finally lifted- and still felt betrayed by the man she had trusted so much, simply because he hadn't returned her trust; he hadn't told her Yet she grieved for him now as she had silently mourned for him those past months. After all, he had also been the man who had raised her, an orphan, like his own daughter. He had taught her to read- not only books but also the sky, the waves of the sea- how to wrap a knot, coil up ropes, mend a sail; he had taught her the skills of sword fighting and self defence, and she had absorbed all the knowledge he offered her like a dry sponge soaking up water. It had been him who had given her the chance she needed to live the most unconventional lifestyle for a woman- the life of a pirate.

Now, brushing back a whisk of hair from her face, she rummaged through the remnants of Santiago's belongings and a bag full of memories. Lost in thoughts she flinched at the sound of Jack's voice.

"Ah, here ye are!"

Rowan turned around to face him, stunned how he'd managed to creep up behind her so silently, without her noticing it.

"Thought ye might fancy a sip o' beer, luv." He said cheerfully and handed her a mug. "Well, as it seems the locals think we're absolutely daft to continue working in the hottest hours of the day, so me thinks we should simply follow their example 'n take a little break. How 'bout that?"

She took a good mouthful of the offered beer. It was refreshingly cold and the bitter taste was perfect to quench her thirst. Gratefully she blinked at Jack, only now realizing just how thirsty she had been.

"Ye're really a good man, Captain Sparrow." Rowan sighed, then drowned the contents of the mug completely and let out a very unladylike belch. "Oh, that was good."

Jack chuckled about her non-existent manners and even more about the sloppy way she looked. She had tied up the ends of her shirt beneath her breasts, her pants were rolled up to her knees, her feet bare. Actually, she revealed an unseemly amount of tanned skin but that was alright by him… Her cheeks were smeared with greyish brown patterns of grime, and her hair was an unruly mess that had withstood her half-hearted attempt to tame it with a bandana carelessly wrapped around her head; some streaks were still constantly falling into her face and the rest reminded him of a wine red Medusa- a Medusa decorated with some cobwebs.

"Ye really shouldn't use yer pretty hair as a duster." He whisked away the cobwebs and then he started to feed her with a portion of fried bananas he had brought along with the beer. They tasted sweet, so heavily dripping with honey and grease that Rowan snapped at his fingers to lick them clean after they had finished their meal.

Jack drew a sharp breath, his voice was suddenly low and hoarse with restrained desire. "My, don't ye know what that reminds me of?"

"Oh…" She blushed a little as it dawned on her what he was just alluding to and stopped sucking at his fingers to give him an innocent glance. "Ye have such a depraved mind, _darling_."

"Sorry. Can't help it, luv." The pirate shrugged, actually not appearing too sorry about the wantonly ideas that flashed up in his mind. "It's just like… every time I look at ye I want ye and I can't stop that."

Rowan was very well aware of the state she looked- and probably smelled- right now, so she took his statement as proof that he must be really fond of her. She circled her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. "Thanks, I appreciate yer affection."

Jack grinned; he would have loved to suit the actions to the words- but not here, not in Alf's old cabin of all places. It seemed inappropriate and just not right, and besides, he would feel watched by Alf's spirit that still seemed to linger in this room.

"Nah, I'll be a good lad." He told himself or- more precisely- the dark wooden ceiling of the cabin. Then he addressed Rowan again, pointing his head to the boxes and trunks she had packed. "What d'ye wanna do with his stuff?"

Rowan sighed heavily. Now, that Santiago was gone for good, there was no reason to keep his belongings aboard- except for sentimental reasons. But since space was much too rare and precious aboard a ship, she couldn't allow herself to give in to sentimentality.

"An ox cart's waiting to take his stuff up to the big house. I suggest we'll see to it later, once we're done with careening, aye?"

Jack uttered something unintelligible that vaguely sounded like approval, but in fact it was more a sign of his own consternation. Though he would never speak it out loud, he missed Alf; he missed the man with all possible kinds of mixed emotions, ranging from love to hate.

Though they were almost done with today's work, one task was still waiting for Rowan. She remembered the fabrics she had sent to Jaidee, the local seamstress, knowing that if she didn't go there today she probably never would. Tomorrow they had to start dragging their ships ashore and when they finally succeeded in that, they would spend the next weeks scraping the hulls free of algae, replacing rotten boards, mending torn sails, ropes- to cut it short, they had to do everything their ever so demanding ships required of them. There would hardly be any time left to care about new clothes, although she definitely needed some, and therefore she had to pay Jaidee a visit today.

-

"Oh, Miss Scarlett, it's so good to see you." Jaidee chirped enthusiastically and performed a respectful _wai_ to welcome her customer. She moved with the natural grace characteristic to most Asian women and that always made Rowan feel awkwardly- and messy. Though she had washed her face before coming here there was no denying that she was sticky with perspiration and dust. She was also aware of her rough, calloused hands in comparison to Jaidee's long, slender and neatly manicured fingers. It didn't improve the situation that Jack had chosen to impersonate a stalking peacock and sprayed his dubious, roguish charm, flattering the seamstress who seemed to be quite impressed.

"My, what a charming man. And a real captain." She sighed with delight when she took Rowan's measurements again. "Mayhap now you fancy a pretty dress like the fine women in London and Paris are wearing?"

Rowan rolled her eyes. It was Jaidee's dream to sew a grandiose dress made of silk and lace, with many layers of skirts as it was the latest fashion in Europe. But she had to fulfil her dreams without Rowan's help.

"No way. A couple of shirts and pants will do, thanks a lot."

"I'd love to see ye in a dress, though." Jack interfered, winking a meaningful eye at her.

She just snorted.

"Maybe another one of these cute little things ye were wearing the day we met- d'ye remember? That green one."

"That's called corsage and no, I don't think I need one." Actually, she thought he only came up with that idea to see her strip and get her measurements taken while at the same time he'd be flirting with Jaidee. There were moments she really felt the urgent desire to strangle him. But instead she eyed him up and down. "Talking about things one needs- _you_ could need some new clothes, too."

"Why? What's wrong with me old ones?" Jack asked flabbergasted.

"Well, they simply remind me of rags."

"No one's ever said that to me so I presume it must have to do with the impatient way of yours to get my out of me clothes. And though ye might be good at mending sails ye haven't yet managed to sew on a single button- wait a minute!" His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Does getting new clothes also include this lovely lass taking me measures? Well, I think I've changed me mind, then. I really do need some nice clothes."

The urge to strangle him grew stronger, especially when the bloody scallywag seemed to enjoy being measured up. He purred and prated all the time, cracking corny jokes. Then he rummaged through the fabrics with eager enthusiasm but his choices were more than doubtful.

"Jack! Ye don't need a **red brocade** coat!"

"But I like it." He insisted stubbornly and wrapped a few yards of said fabric around his upper body, posing in front of a large mirror. "It looks good on me, don't ye agree, luv?"

It did- but Rowan didn't tell him that of all things. "Ye can't go commandeering 'n plundering ships wearing a red brocade coat."

"Why not? I'm an infamous pirate captain, therefore I might as well wear an impressive coat. Besides, if I remember it clearly it was _you _who wanted me to get new clothes."

"Yea, but not- ah, go 'n wrap yerself in yer madness, that's impressive enough."

"If I may say so, sir, the colour suits you perfectly. It is a dark, not too flashy tone that matches wonderfully with your black hair and your chocolate brown eyes." Jaidee threw in what she thought to be a helpful comment.

Meanwhile Rowan's eyes had taken on the colour of a coming thunderstorm and she shot the seamstress a furious glance, which Jack found mighty amusing.

"Aye, ye pretty lass 're absolutely right. Get me a coat done- ah, and one for my lovely lady before she gets too envious, savvy."

"Damned, Jack, I don't need a red brocade coat either." Rowan snapped, feeling slightly passed over by him.

"Ah, it'll look good on ye." With a definite shrug he ignored all further objections and attended his attraction to the pile of fabrics again. "What d'ye think of that silk for a shirt or two?"

"Whatever ye like, _sweetheart_- but please, no ruffles."

-

Once again the blurting, dissonant crow of Pepe the rooster disturbed of what could have been a beautiful morning. No matter whether Taksin locked him in at night- and he swore he did- that devilish creature always found a way out to start his blasphemously early wake-up call at the first hint of daylight. Jack was beginning to take it personally. It seemed to him that the feathery incarnation of Satan enjoyed annoying him because he always strutted around just beneath the bedroom window while bawling out his hiccupping crow. But this time, Jack had made preparations.

He slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the window where he had hidden a bucket full of water. The pirate threw a quick glance outside, a sly smile on his face. There he was, that bloody rooster, his black-feathered foe. As suspected, the beast strayed around directly below the window, proud as a peacock, his head held high to burst out another one of his disturbing crows.

"Shut up, ye mangy son of a lousy bitch." Jack hissed. With verve he poured out the bucket before correcting his last words. "Hen. Mangy son of a lousy _hen_, I wanted to say."

Indignantly Pepe ruffled his wet feathers, sending off sparks of water that shimmered like rainbows in the early morning light. It would have been a beautiful sight if the insulted rooster hadn't decided to complain loudly about this rude, inappropriate treatment while looking for the one to blame. Jack could have sworn the feathery beast shot him a scornful, almost evil gaze from bloodshot eyes- well, that was quite the contrary of what he had intended. Remembering Pepe's reputation as prized fighting cock he quickly slammed shut the shutters and hurried back to bed.

_That's not fair_, he thought groggily. Every muscle of his body still ached due to the passed few day's hard, exhausting and boring work of hauling up the two large ships on a beach north of Nathon, and though the people of Ko Samui had helped the pirates with manpower as well as ox carts, it hadn't any been less draining. Therefore he deserved some sleep now- undisturbed sleep, to be more precisely. But it seemed to him as if his needs were completely ignored lately.

Jack turned around and cuddled up closer to Rowan, hoping that she would finally yield to his needs. After all, she had managed to reject him these last three days although he hadn't done anything wrong. And most of all he had **not** been flirting with the seamstress. No, he had only tried to be kind, to flatter a person he was about to bargain with. Of course it was helpful if said trading partner had long silky hair and a pretty face… But then Rowan had argued that Jaidee was one of Alf's protégées therefore haggling about the price wasn't necessary as they would of course get a special offer and apart from that, Jaidee was a widow with two small kids to care for so his methods of bargaining would have been out of question anyway. He should have known that since she had told him on the way if only he would listen to what others say and not be so full of himself… Oh yea, that was typical Rowan. Unlike other women she wouldn't slap him nor raised her voice to clarify her disgrace- no, Rowan Scarlett just needed to shoot him one of her worst thunderstorm looks which hurt more than any slap in the face. First, he had thought he could soothe her mood by simply seducing her and everything would be alright again. Alas, that trick hadn't worked. It was as if she she'd grown immune to his skilful ways of seduction.

Ah, she was such a cruel woman. Jack actually feared he'd die of sexual frustration if he couldn't have her flat on her back right now, her legs wantonly spread for him. His chances were slim though. She still slept and he wouldn't force himself upon a sleeping woman- he was Captain Jack Sparrow, he had never needed to force a woman to accept what was good for her and that was, of course, him. There were surely dozens of women in Nathon who'd be dying if they could lay their pretty little fingers on his well formed body. Unfortunately, they were not like Rowan. Damned, he loved her and couldn't change that worrisome feeling. Jack let out a deep, frustrated sigh.

He was aware of the fact that he behaved like an infatuated fool. He had even gone so far to draw a hot bath for her after they'd come home from a day of hard work, he had massaged her stiff shoulders and she had really appreciated that- then she had given him a sweet kiss, saying _'Good night, Jack'_ and falling sound asleep within seconds. The next evening he had tried to impress her with flowers. All women liked flowers, so Jack had scattered wild roses on the bed… He should have recognized that roses had thorns and the romantic idea of a bed of roses always meant petals but not, ever, the whole flower. To cut it short, Rowan wasn't too impressed to find herself being pricked with nasty thorns when all she wanted was to sleep. And again nothing had happened that would relieve him of the increasing pressure he felt in his groin.

Now, he nudged his nose in the soft curve of her neck and inhaled her scent deeply although he knew it would probably kill him with lust and unfulfilled longings.

"I luv ye, I want ye, and I wanna kill that bloody rooster. Please _do_ something."

Rowan sighed sleepily and chuckled a little because she had taken notice of Jack's ongoing war with Pepe which she thought was hilarious. The infamous Captain Jack Sparrow despaired of a rooster. On the one hand she felt sorry for him and not only because of that nuisance but also for her own behaviour. She hadn't meant to so stubbornly resist him for more than a night, instead she had just wanted to show him his- or her- limits. Then the draining work had taken over the agenda and she had been too tired, let alone in the right mood for amorous escapades bothering her well deserved sleep. On the other hand she did have certain needs, too, just like Jack. But at the moment her most urgent need was to get breakfast- she'd die for a cup of tea- and then, mayhap…

This promise in mind got Jack really going. He jumped into his breeches and, eagerly to fulfil her wishes, he scampered out of the room. Still a bit drowsy, Rowan fell asleep again.

Some time later the smell of scrambled eggs and steaming tea filled her nose so she opened her eyes to see Jack placing down a tray with delicious goodies on the bed; it contained various fruits as well as the aforementioned tea and eggs. Things, he could have easily found in the kitchen or the garden and that didn't justify him looking as if he had fought hard to get them. Yet he looked exactly like that.

"What happened to ye?" Rowan asked mildly bewildered, raising a questioning eyebrow at him as she eyed him up and down from over the rim of her mug of tea. There were bloody scratches on his arms that looked like traces of claws.

"Pepe." Jack just shrugged before he gracefully acquiesced to tell her more about that incident. "I wanted to fetch some eggs for ye but apparently that damned bastard of a feathery incarnation of the devil didn't like me shooing around his hens so he chose me to become his next opponent in a fight of life or death…"

Rowan snorted and almost spilled her tea when she saw a black feather attached to his dreadlocks. "Jack! What have ye done?"

"Well, I could have wrung his neck if I had felt like, savvy? But I spared him." He stated proudly before giving her an innocent look. "D'ye like yer scrambled eggs, luv?"

The scrambled eggs were delicious but that didn't change the fact that the kitchen looked as if a cannon ball had hit it. Most cupboards doors stood open, dishes were spread everywhere, eggshells lay on the table as well as on the floor, carelessly dropped. Mixed with the eggshells were tealeaves and the sticky peels of fruit. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea asking Jack to make breakfast more often. Ubol, however, was literally tearing her hair as she caught sight of the mess and started yelling at Rowan who pretended not to understand any Siamese at all. But when Jack confessed that he was the one to blame for the old Siamese woman just pinched his cheek affectionately and called him a good boy. Allegedly a male pirate captain was allowed to make a mess while a female pirate captain wasn't, so Rowan pondered about the injustice of life and why only women were supposed to be tidy.

Days went by and turned into weeks but Jack's war with Pepe didn't cease. Almost every morning started with the rooster's hiccupping crow followed by Jack's loud curses, and the pirate had a large repertoire of curses. He also had a lot of incredible ideas how to silence a disturbing rooster. Unfortunately, none of them was really effective. The bucketful of water hadn't helped and his brand new collection of handy pebbles also failed their purpose.

One morning, Jack drew his pistol.

Rowan sat up with a start and hurried to stop him from shooting poor Pepe, but then she saw that he hadn't aimed at the rooster. The shot went off. For an instant all the birds in the trees fell silent. Then there was a crackle in one of the palm trees and a coconut came down, hitting Pepe's butt and forcing him to sit down with a confused cackle. Only a minute later the rooster fled to his stable and remained there for the next two days, utterly shocked and absolutely silent. On the third day however…

To say that Jack was frustrated was an understatement, and that the pirates had celebrated the end of careening their ships the night before didn't improve his mood either. He howled into his pillow and threatened Rowan to leave her for good if she wouldn't do something. Anything. NOW.

Ignoring his threat she just pulled the blanket over her head. She loved him but not that early in the morning after a night of celebrating. And if leaving her meant peaceful mornings without the daily quarrel between pirate and rooster… somehow that was a promising thought.

"Why don't ye just try to be nice to Pepe? For instance, ye could go 'n feed him." She mumbled sleepily.

"To whom?" Jack enquired with a fair hint of enthusiasm in his voice but Rowan had already fallen asleep again. He mused about her words then, wondering who might want to eat an old, tough rooster when suddenly a wonderful idea struck him. He placed a sound smacker on her cheek. "Ah, ye're such a wonderful, smart woman. I really luv ye."

A few days later Rowan came home and spotted Jack in the garden which was odd because usually he avoided the garden; it was Pepe's territory. There had been some incredible scenes when the rooster had made a surprise attack on Jack, chasing him around the garden. Luckily, the pirate could run faster… it had taken Rowan a great deal of self-control not to burst out with laughter and wound his pride.

Now, he sat in the garden, feeding a furry something while occasionally pointing to a group of chickens. Curiously, Rowan stepped closer.

"Jack? What ye're doing there?"

"Rowan! Darlin'! Ye're back!" Trying not to sound too surprised nor feel caught in the act he picked up the furry ball and jumped to his feet. "It's so good to see ye as I happen to have a surprise for ye. What d'ye say?"

The furry something suddenly opened bright yellow green eyes and hissed indignantly at her.

"Oh. A cat."

"No, a kitten. Isn't she cute?"

Rowan didn't know what to say because she probably had never seen an uglier cat than this poor little kitten. She was of an indefinable colour that slightly reminded one of mud, bitten by fleas- you could actually see them bounding in her shaggy fur- undernourished, and she looked so mangy that Rowan instinctively felt sorry for her. But cute? That surely wasn't the right word to describe her.

"Where do you get that from?"

"Found her in the village and thought by myself that this cute little kitty would be a nice present for ye. Come on, kitty, kitty, kitty, go to Rowan, will ye?"

No, the cat did **not** want to go to Rowan. Stubbornly she pinched her claws into Jack's arm and protested with a screeching meow, refusing to be handed over.

"A present? For me? Oh- um… how nice…" _Should I feel flattered or embarrassed now? My lover intends to give me a bag of fleas as a present, _Rowan thought though she was eventually a bit moved by the gesture itself; she really believed he only wanted to please her. "Well, what have I done to deserve that?"

"Because all women are fond of pets and ye're a woman." Jack said smugly. Probably it had never struck him that not all pets might be equally fond of women but had to learn that soon. Apparently the kitten had already started an unconditional love affair with him therefore she clung desperately at him- and even young cats had sharp claws. The look on his face was priceless as he hissed with clenched teeth. "She's still a bit shy but I swear she loves ye. Remember Lizzie and that little dog she bought in Shanghai? First, Buddy was shy, too, but then he absolutely adored her."

No wonder, after all he had become the well-fed and spoiled pet of an English family instead of ending up as dinner for a Chinese family. Nevertheless, Rowan also remembered that Jack had refused to let the Buddy set its big, clumsy paws aboard the Pearl in fear the puppy could pee on the precious planks of his precious ship. So when had he become an animal lover?

Probably he wasn't one at all; probably the kitten was just means to an end. Rowan threw a glance at the plate still standing on the ground and noticed that the cheeky pirate had been feeding the kitten with chicken meat. She frowned.

"Jack, my sweetheart, could it possibly be that ye only took the poor little kitty along because ye thought ye could train her to go hunting poultry one day and thereby mayhap _accidentally _kill Pepe?"

"Nah, I'd never do that!" Jack replied in a tone of utter conviction but she could see sparks of mischief flashing up in his eyes that proved her right. "Honestly, luv, I just wanted to give ye a little present."

"I really do appreciate yer most honourable ambitions. By the way, cats are quite clever beasts who won't pick a prized fighting cock for dinner."

"Won't they?" Now he frowned and for a second the self-contented smile left his face only to be replaced by an even broader one. "Well then, that's good to know, ain't it?"

Jack finally managed to catch the cat unawares, grabbed her by the neck and shoved her into Rowan's arms, scratching his chest.

"Yer cat has fleas." He said matter-of-factly before he headed to the house, already pondering about others ways to get rid off the infernal Pepe.

The kitten, however, had her own mind. Terrified she fled Rowan's arms to run after her adored Jack and rubbed against his legs. Then she looked at the closed door of the house and urged him with a begging meow to let her enter. He did- even the most infamous pirate captain had his soft moment sometimes- and so Rummy the cat entered their life.

Of course, the name was Jack's idea. The muddy colour of the cat's fur had reminded him of rum as a lot of things reminded him of rum; therefore he had insisted on calling the kitten Rummy. But all other things concerning the cat he had gracefully left over to Rowan- like getting rid off the fleas, smoothing her dishevelled fur, feeding her- after all, it was **her** cat; he had given it to her. Nevertheless it was him who collected the awards of her efforts. Though Rummy definitely appreciated being cared for she cold-shouldered Rowan when it came down to showing affection, instead she overwhelmed Jack with unconditional love. He accepted it with gratification because it just proved that all female beings were naturally fond of Captain Jack Sparrow.

Now, Jack had to deal not only with a mad rooster but also with a possessive cat. Now, he would wake up even before Pepe could startle him with his outlandish crow because Rummy just loved to suffocate him with affection and she'd chosen to do so especially in the very early hours of the mornings. She would curl up in the hollow of his shoulders, idly toying with the exciting beads in his dreadlocks, purring contently. But that wasn't really a nuisance compared to the ongoing battle between rooster and pirate. One day, however, he had a splendid idea.

First, Rowan didn't notice the change. She slept undisturbed for some mornings in a row before she began to wonder about that. What had happened? Why the sudden silence in the morning? No crowing, no cursing- was Pepe still alive? Though she didn't think her lover being able of cold-blooded murder she suddenly remembered his recent interest on how Mr Cotton had lost his tongue. Startled she shook his shoulder to wake him, much to Rummy's disapproval. The cat hissed jealously and spread her claws.

"Blast, ye little beast. Remember who feeds ye, aye?" Rowan growled and shook Jack again. "Jack? Jack! Tell me ye haven't cut off Pepe's tongue, have ye?"

He opened one eye, blinked at her and closed it again. Then he slurred. "Nah… thought 'bout it though. But the 'ellish creature'd only get 'imself a couple o' parrots to do 'is bloody crowin'."

Rowan tried to imagine a flock of multi-coloured parrots imitating Pepe's hiccupping crow and had to chuckle at that thought. Alas, she still didn't know what was wrong with the rooster. He was obviously alive and apparently well though there was something slightly disorientated about the way he strutted around, watching over his harem of hens. Later that day she found out the reason why.

She sat on the porch, pretending to read a book, when from the corner of her eye she saw Jack sneaking through the backdoor and into the garden, heading for the coop. Rowan sensed he was ready for mischief so she followed him unobtrusively. She was surprised by a very unexpected sight- Jack was feeding Pepe the rooster.

Well, that was exactly what she had encouraged him to do some while ago, to be nice to Pepe for once instead of constantly threatening to kill him. Nevertheless- there was something wrong with that scene. Jack's luring for instance.

"Chick, chick, chick, come on ye mangy bastard of an infernal hen, it's eat or die now. Come and see what good ol' Jack's got for ye. Chick, chick… ah, now that's a goodie, ain't it? Yea, go on 'n swallow it, ye disgusting nuisance…"

First, Rowan thought that Jack tried to poison the rooster but when she stepped closer she noticed a faint familiar smell radiating from the bowl of chicken food he held in his hands. She sniffed again.

"Is my nose mistaken or does that special poultry food of yours really smell rum soaked?"

Jack winced at the sound of her voice but then he turned around and innocently kissed the tip of her nose. "Rowan, my darling! Well, ye've got a very pretty nose, ye know, but I'm sure ye're wrong…"

"I'm not." She tipped an irritably index finger at his chest. "Don't make a fool of me. Ye're trying to get Pepe drunk."

"Ah, just think about it. Would I get a rooster drunk?"

"Aye, ye would."

"Hmpf." Jack scratched his head, musing about that. Then an idea struck him. He grinned broadly and opened his arms in a wide, exaggerated gesture that made him look every inch the rascal he was. "Hey, what's wrong with that anyway? Every decent living being in this world naturally loves rum, so I'm only doing him a favour, savvy? Besides, Taksin doesn't mind as long as dear ol' Pepe has sobered up by next Sunday, for the fight."

"Well, if Taksin says so…" Rowan shrugged tolerantly and decided not to bother with drunken roosters anymore as long as the mornings would remain peacefully silent and undisturbed by either crowing or cursing.

-

One morning, Jack and Rowan woke up and the world had turned to grey; deep clouds hovered like fog patches between the palm trees, pouring out waterfalls of rain. Actually that could have the perfect day to spend in bed, making love, if Rummy hadn't decided to join in the funny game the pirate couple was playing, caressing them with sharp claws. These were the moments Jack could do very well without her affection. He had certain needs that longed to be satisfied and the cat simply was a killer of any romantic atmosphere, so he wasn't very tolerant with her. Unceremoniously he grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and chucked her out of the room, ignoring her protesting meow.

The rainy season had started therefore the weather didn't improve in the next days; it only got worse. The rain didn't cease but continued pouring as if someone had opened the floodgates of heaven, and soon the garden looked like a puddle of mud crisscrossed with streams of reddish brown water flowing down from the hills. As if that wasn't enough, a tropical storm blew in. It raged for days, howling like infuriated banshees. Anyone with a roof over his head stayed inside to avoid the danger of accidentally being killed by flying coconuts.

For a day or two Jack and Rowan didn't mind; they had themselves so everything seemed to be perfect. But the cosy atmosphere wore off rapidly as time went by since both of them were not used to staying inside a house for a long time. Now, the proximity seemed to suffocate them. They were bored and bored pirates tended to behave like caged tigers sometimes. Impatiently they paced up and down the living room, occasionally stopping to look out of the window, at the sea. The sea, however, was hardly visible these days, it had melted with the pouring rain to a vague idea on the horizon, and though they longed to be out there, they didn't really wish to be. After all, they knew what it was like to steer a ship through a storm like that, being soaked to the skin, hoarse of bellowing commands against the howling wind and simply exhausted from struggling the forces of nature. It was a good feeling- but being warm and dry wasn't bad either.

Jack handled the situation with more nonchalance than Rowan who had a real big problem and that was called Ubol. Actually, the problem wasn't Ubol herself but rather her absence. Since it was kind of dangerous to go outside while the storm was still raging, the moving spirit of this household had apparently decided to stay at her own home and not to come over in order to cook for the two pirates nor to clean up the mess they made. So Rowan suddenly found herself in the unexpected role of a housewife which didn't suit her at all. If she had wanted to become a devoted housewife she wouldn't have needed to prove herself in a world dominated by men. Nevertheless she reluctantly tried to adopt that new role because she thought she owed it to Jack. Everything should be as perfect as if Ubol was still around- needless to say that that she failed. She had set her sights too high. Rowan Scarlett would never become a good cook, let alone a good housewife. She couldn't even manage to cook rice that wasn't either burned or mushy, which was really frustrating. And her frustration grew with every day until she began to vent it on Jack who really didn't understand what was going on now. After all, he hadn't done anything wrong. He wasn't to blame for this bloody storm and he had never even complained about the food- actually he had eaten much worse. It was just her own desire for perfection that made her so bitchy.

Finally the long bottled up tension exploded when Jack dared to utter he was hungry. Rowan was instantly seeing red, thinking he expected her to scurry into the kitchen to obsequiously fulfil his wishes and cook some food for him. She shot him an infuriated glance.

"So what? If ye're hungry go to town but don't bother me. Ye expect me to care for ye, cook for ye, feed yer cat and clean up the mess ye leave behind without ever thinking about lifting one of yer precious little fingers to help me. Instead ye take it for granted that I serve ye, and probably ye also expect me to perform the perfect and always wanton lover to keep yer bed warm…"

"Well, the last point I'd really appreciate…" Jack ducked just in time before a thrown plate could decapitate him; it dashed to pieces at the wall behind him. "Blast! What's wrong with ye, luv? Don't ye like yer service anymore? I'll get ye a new one- the finest china from the next East India Company's ship I plunder…"

"Damned, d'ye really have the nerve to ask me what's wrong with me? Just think about it for a second, Mister Too-full-of-himself! I don't give a damn about fine china and even if I did, I'm perfectly able to plunder a ship on my own. I'm not yer nice little housewife, savvy? I'm every bit as much a pirate captain as you are, therefore I'm not gonna serve ye any longer."

Jack opened his mouth to say that it had never been his intention being served by her and that he couldn't understand the whole fuss anyway- but then he thought about it again. Whatever he was going to say now would likely been misunderstood by her so he decided to shut up. There was no need to complicate things. Women were complicated. Love was complicated- well, maybe not love itself but living with the woman he loved, and since he had no experience in that he would rather flee the strained atmosphere. He took his old, worn coat, crammed on his old hat over his eyes and left the house. Perhaps they both needed a timeout.

Though they had been living together for a couple of month now, Jack and Rowan hadn't clung together constantly. They had taken care of careening their ships which had been hard work, but they had as well kept social contact with their crew members, meeting them for a beer or two at the local tavern occasionally. Neither of them had had to give up their own freedom or independence, and that had worked perfectly until the storm had forced them to stay inside. Therefore Jack was quite eager now to meet some of his mates and to get drunk with them on cheap Mekong whiskey. Then he saw that little boat bopping up and down at the pier belonging to the estate and changed his mind after a long, yearning look at the sea. He didn't miss his mates as much as he'd missed being out on the sea.

Rowan heard the door slam shut and threw another plate, cursing the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. Soon after that she began to feel miserable for being so harsh and unjust to him, for letting off steam on him because of her own discontent. Frustrated she sat down on the sofa and wrapped her arms around her knees, feeling abandoned. Then Rummy rubbed her head against her legs. The cat purred so encouraging that Rowan picked her up to cuddle her and Rummy gracefully allowed her to do so for a while. But the cat's affection didn't last long. After a few minutes she meowed impatiently and struggled free to head for the kitchen, expecting to get fed. She was such a manipulative little beast, only granting her affection to Rowan when she was hungry while the rest of the time she preferred to overwhelm Jack with her unconditional, purring love although he never fed her. It was a strange world. It also wasn't feeding time yet so Rummy gave up and began to pace edgily up and down at the door, begging to get out. Rowan opened the door for her. The cat scurried across the porch but when her sweet little paws touched the first mud puddle on her way to the garden she hurried back inside, indignantly raising her hackles and meowing accusingly at Rowan as if she was the one to blame for the lousy weather conditions of the past days. Incredibly bored she then spread the mud on her paws in the whole house by chasing her own shadow.

_If Ubol doesn't show up tomorrow she's dismissed_, Rowan thought enervated since she definitely did not intend to clean the house when there was a house keeper who should take care of such things. After all- and she imaginary underlined that three times- she was not a housewife and she would never become one.

Later that day Jack finally came back home, humming cheerfully. Proudly he shoved a big fish into Rowan's arms.

"Oh, ye brought me a fish… how nice."

"Yep. Our dinner. I thought about stuffing it with spices…" Jack opened the fish's mouth and stared intensely inside, wondering how the hell to stuff the fish with spices. Rowan started to laugh and that sounded good, especially since he hadn't heard that the last few days.

"My, it won't work that way! Ye know, ye've gotta gut it first." She showed him what she meant by slitting open the fish and taking out its insides which she fed to greedy Rummy who really appreciated such a splendid feast. Then she glanced at Jack. "Hey, I'm sorry for…"

He didn't hear her out but gathered her in his arms, holding her tight.

"Jack, ye're as wet and cold as the fish is. Luckily not as slippery though." She complained, yet she didn't move away from him.

"Aye, it's raining again. And, ye know, I thought a lot about what ye said when I was out there on my own, at sea, fishing, while the rain was pouring down on me..."

"Ye're fishing for sympathy now?"

"No, no, no- don't get me wrong, luv. Listen, I was gonna say that I like ye very much and… well, it's nice living with ye despite or just because of yer hellcat's temper. Ye make me laugh and that's much better than being a good housewife. If I want a housewife I sign one, savvy?"

Rowan sighed amused. "Captain Jack Sparrow are ye possibly trying to tell me ye love me?"

"Well, ye could say so, aye. After all, I brought ye a very big fish."

"Speaking of fish- ye still feel cold and wet." She let go of him and stepped back, looking with a frown at the puddle that had formed around his feet. "Ye really should take off yer wet clothes."

"Ye want me to undress? I knew there's a reason to love ye." He grinned ambiguously. "By the way, ye also said something about being wantonly…"

"Bloody lecher." Chuckling she elbowed him. "Actually I only wanted to suggest ye take a hot bath before ye prepare our dinner."

"Now that sounds promising. I love taking a bath- any chance ye join me? Ye could go diving for treasures in the deep abyss of the tub."

"Jack! You are absolutely incorrigible. Sometimes I really do wonder if that's all ye see in me."

"'course not, darlin'. Ye're…" He paused, pretending to rack his brains for something nice to say about her. "Oh yeah, now I got it. Ye have the most remarkably hair I've ever seen- did I ever mention I love yer hair?"

"Ye don't have to mention that 'cause I've already noticed, eventually ye keep nuzzling it all the time ever since ye're back."

"Right. Well, what else? Ah, ye're a good pirate- pardon, pirate **captain**. Ye can handle yer sword decently and yer footwork is very unique. No need to prove it on me though. Ye can hold yer rum even if ye prefer red wine- which reminds me of yer hair again- but when ye get drunk ye're incredibly funny. Ye make me laugh. Ye're my Lady Smart Ass and," he simply couldn't resist, "ye're probably the best screw I ever had."

"Oh Jack, ye really know how to flatter a woman."

Despite her ironic intonation he opened his arms in a gesture of invitation. "Luv, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"

Rowan laughed out loud.

Santiago had been a wise man with a profound knack for making life more comfortable. He had had a great knowledge of things that had been as well as of those that would be, and with these skills he had constructed a system of pipes leading from the fountain behind the house to the kitchen where you could drain fresh water whenever you needed it. But- given that the oven was heated- you could also draw hot water for a bath without arduously having to carry it in bucketfuls from the fountain. And though it had been great fun to see Jack slave away with that task once, Rowan nevertheless preferred to rely on Santiago's system when she wanted to take a bath. Well, it hadn't been on her agenda for today but on the other hand she couldn't deny the fun it was taking a bath with Jack. Cleanliness, however, was not so much his concern. She opened a bottle of wine and lit the candles.

Later the bathroom was flooded as usual but Jack made a very content face. Unfortunately that only lasted until he suddenly saw from the corner of his eyes a silvery reflection which reminded him of fish. He sat up with a start and sent a wave of water splashing over the edges of the tub.

"Bloody hell! I think our dinner's just running away."

While he scurried out of the bathroom, dripping wet like he was, Rowan wondered how a dead and already gutted fish could run away. Then she remembered that they had left the fish on the kitchen table, and Rummy… well, the greedy cat had already experienced the taste of it. She might have decided that such a pretty big fish would be the perfect dinner for her.

"Oh no…"

"Let go of it, ye ungrateful, mangy, little beast. That's **my **dinner!" She heard Jack cursing, which proved her right. Then he yelled. "Rowan! Come here 'n tell yer lousy cat to stop misbehaving."

She wrapped herself in a towel and followed the wet footprints on the wooden floor. _**I'm not** gonna clean up this mess and Ubol is dismissed if she won't come over soon. What am I paying her for?_, she thought but then she got rewarded with a priceless sight. The infamous Captain Jack Sparrow naked on the floor of the living room, desperately clinging to the fish's tail while Rummy was equally desperately defending her booty, screeching at him. That scene was only topped by a knock at the door and Marris entered without waiting for a reply.

"'ello, mates, I…" He broke off when he saw Jack naked-arsed struggling with the cat about an already half-eaten fish. Shaking his head he addressed Rowan. "It seems to me ye're in need of dinner. Now, isn't it great that my lovely wife tends to cook more than we can eat so I wanted to ask ye to join us anyway. I do suggest ye get dressed first though."

Accepting the invitation gratefully, Rowan chucked out her mate out and closed the door again, before she teasingly pinched Jack's butt.

"Ye can let go of it now, sweetheart. We managed to get an invitation for dinner. By the way, did I ever mention that ye've got a nice, sexy arse?"

He turned around with a wolfish, golden smile, presenting himself in all his glory. "Well, I really appreciate that, luv. What else d'ye like about me?"

Rowan decided not to answer to that since he was too full of himself anyway. Meanwhile the cat fled with her loot to the deepest corner of the living room.

Marris used to have a simple, functionally furnished hut but Anamaria had turned it into a cosy home for the newly wed couple. Now, her female influence was evident everywhere. There were pillows on the chairs, a vase with fresh flowers stood on the table, and the many candles shed a warm, comfortable light. The whole house radiated an atmosphere of familiarity. It also smelled deliciously of freshly prepared food.

First, Rowan was a bit surprised. She hadn't expected any housewifely ambitions in Anamaria but apparently she had been wrong. Her best foe came out of the kitchen with a smile on her face, placing another sizzling plate on the table. Then she wiped her hands on her apron and welcomed her guest.

"Can't decide what I like to eat so I keep myself busy with cooking all that comes to my mind." She explained while gently stroking over her swollen belly.

"Anamaria!" Jack blurted out cheerfully but then looked her up and down and frowned. "Could it be, mayhap, that ye've grown quite fat recently, luv?"

She slapped him really hard and sending the beads in his hair jingling. "Damned, I'm pregnant, you daft idiot. We're expecting our first child."

"Ouch." While still holding his maltreated cheek, Jack shot a glance at Marris. "I just wonder how ye survive being married to a wench like her."

"Ah, that's quite easy." Marris wrapped his arms around his wife, thus stopping her from slapping Jack again because of his remark. Affectionately he kissed her neck. "I just love and respect my lovely wife."

They had an excellent dinner. Anamaria wasn't only a good sailor but also a good cook, and furthermore she would probably be a good mother too. She fit in all the different things that Rowan didn't which left a stale taste of failure in her mouth, and she tried to drown that with lots of wine. Nevertheless it was frustrating.

She vent off her frustration when Jack walked her home later that night. He, however, was in a jolly good mood, humming his favourite tune.

"It's not fair, ain't it? She's too perfect- Ana, I mean. She's a damned good sailor; I 'ave to admit that. She's pretty. She charmed me first mate 'n even married 'im- alright. But now she's gone too far by also bein' a perfect li'le housewife. Won't complain about her cookin' though… ah, 'n I swear she's gonna be a wonderful mother too."

"Well, that might be." Jack stopped to gather Rowan in his arms and kissed the tip of her nose. "Ah, but ye're so much more fun- if ye know what I mean. And ye're definitely cute when ye're drunk."

Rowan replied something unintelligible that vaguely reminded him of _I'm not drunk_. Jack just grinned.

-

Days of living together turned into weeks, and even the most annoying rainy season ended one day. Rowan sat on the porch when Jack came home from wherever- she had never bothered to ask him where he went when he didn't spend his time with her; she simply granted him the same freedom she required for herself. Today, though, he looked kinda frustrated compared to his usual, carefree mood.

"Hey, what's up?"

He sighed heavy-heartedly. "He's dead."

"Who?"

"The infernal rooster."

Rowan jumped up. "What have ye done, scoundrel?"

"I?" Jack shot her an innocent look. "Ye can't possibly think I would kill a prized fighting cock."

_No, ye've only tried that in many different ways and as one result we now have a possessive, greedy cat, _she thought cynically while waiting for an explanation he was likely going to give.

"The malicious beast dared to get killed in a fight."

"Well, um, now that's tragic but at long last ye should be glad about it…"

"But I lost ten shillings! I s'ppose he only got himself killed to annoy me."

"What? Ye bet on a fighting cock ye wished to be dead? How weird is that?"

"After all, he was good." Jack confessed with a shrug.

Rowan rolled her eyes. "Maybe there was a tad too much rum in that special poultry food of yers?"

He propped his hands on his hips and gazed indignantly at her. "Bloody nonsense. There can never be too much rum- speaking of that, I could need a good mouthful."

Though Rowan took note of his statement she didn't move. Jack let out a frustrated moan and went inside to fetch himself a bottle of rum but when he returned he was in a more cheerful mood again.

"I just came up with a great idea." He said proudly. "The Pearl could use a splash of spray at her bow so why not go and have a little raid in the Strait of Malacca, pestering, pillaging and plundering a couple of East India Company's ships? We could also pay the lovely Turner family a visit or stop in Singapore for a bit of debauchery. What d'ye say, luv?"

Rowan wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Ye really know how to win a woman's heart. That sounds like a lot of fun."

* * *

"I'm not sure I want to hear about your mischievous crimes in the Strait of Malacca." Commodore Norrington interjected, pulling a disgusted face. Though he enjoyed Jack's knack for telling a good story he was appalled when reminded of the man's doubtful profession.

"And I'm not giving away details of what's going on in the bedroom, if that's what ye prefer to…"

"Sparrow!"

"_Captain_ Sparrow."

Norrington rolled his eyes. "You have no decency at all."

"Pirate!" Jack smirked. "Decency is highly overrated, if ye ask me, Jamie. And it appears to me that too much decency is the reason ye haven't found yerself a bonnie-lass yet."

"Please don't worry about me, I'm fine." James was not- under any circumstances- going to discuss his sexual life with a pirate of all people, let alone that such a topic was inappropriate anyway.

Jack remained silent for a while, lost in thoughts. He wished he could do more to find Rowan than to chat with the Commodore and wait until it was dark; at dark the shady rabble would come out of their hiding places to enter the local taverns. Those people had a great knowledge of things that pass beyond the eyes of authorities so they might also know where to find the former Maharaja of Madras- and Rowan. He stared at his hand, at the fine dark lines of a tattoo on his ring finger. Damned, he missed her. Thinking about her almost caused physical pain and his stomach clenched with fear for her. He tried to drown that feeling with a huge swallow of whiskey, not wanting to reveal his emotions to Norrington. But the Navy officer was an attentive observer.

"What's that?" James asked when spotting the tattoo and he stepped closer to have a better look at it.

"Oh, that's sort of a wedding ring for people with an aversion to marriage but a strong sense of the feelings they share, savvy?"


	4. pirate style proposal

Chapter 4- pirate style proposal

"A wedding ring for people with an aversion to marriage?" Norrington was mildly bewildered. He took a closer look at the tattoo on Jack's finger and now he could see that it did, in fact, resembled a ring; thin black lines were inked into the skin to become the spitting image of a richly ornate piece of jewellery. It was perhaps the most detailed and accurate tattoo he had ever seen, a true masterpiece in design and meaning. "Who got that idea?"

Jack wagged his hand in front of the Commodore's eyes. "Surely ye don't have any tattoos, Jamie?"

"Of course not. The reputation of my family has to be considered and honoured. They wouldn't appreciate it if I used my skin as human canvas for some dubious artist." He replied stiffly. Nevertheless he couldn't deny his interest and tried to get another glance at Jack's never resting hands. "Yet I do wonder where to find a person with such extraordinary skills."

"Ah, so now ye wanna revolt 'gainst yer family's honour 'n get yerself a frivolous tattoo?" Jack asked, arching a teasing brow at Norrington.

"Certainly not."

"Well, if ye ever change yer mind go Singapore and ask for Mr Wu…"

"I am definitely not interested."

Ignoring the Commodore's objection, Jack continued, "…if ye tell him yer friend of mine ye might get a special price."

They both remained silent for a while. Norrington had chosen not to reply to that doubtful offer and the pirate's thoughts seemed to have drifted off again; lost in memories he was rubbing his ring finger. James watched him unobtrusively. Jack Sparrow was a hard man to predict and many people considered him daft, a drunkard and a fool- James had done so too, and underestimated him. Usually his face was absolutely inscrutable and his eyes wouldn't give away any of his feelings, instead he'd wrap them up in a lie and crack a joke, pretending to be drunk in order to hide a remarkable bright mind. Norrington had long given up trying to figure him out when suddenly, for a short moment, he could catch a glimpse at the man behind the legends of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. Though he still saw a maddening, incorrigible scallywag he also saw a face lined with concern. Jack was a man just like him, a man with hopes, fears and worries. A lot of worries. James couldn't resist the urge to put a comforting hand on the pirate's shoulder and soothe him.

"Don't worry too much, Jack. I'm sure you'll find your wife soon and everything will turn out fine."

"Oh, sure." Jack shook off the Commodore's hand with a frown.. "After all, Rowan's a kinda tough bitch, ain't she?"

Though the words itself were not very complimentary they were uttered with a lot of respect and admiration. Norrington grimaced as he thought of his encounter with Rowan Scarlett and instinctively touched the scar on his face. Jack grinned briefly, still a bit absent-minded but amused nevertheless.

"It was her idea, ye know…"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Granted." A broad grin flashed up on the pirate's face as he played down his troubles by thinking of better times. "Getting a tattoo instead of a ring or- to be more precisely- the tattoo of a ring. See…" he fiercely shook his hand, "…can't loose it."

"Very impressive. What makes me wonder though is that last night you said she did not want to marry you."

Jack sighed and glanced at Norrington as if considering him a bit slow. "Jamie, mate, marriage's got nothing to do with it so that's why we got the tattoos, savvy?"

"Ah…" James wasn't much wiser. He still didn't understand what's wrong with marrying the person you love nevertheless he couldn't help himself but admire the romantic idea behind the nasty way of marring the skin with permanent lines of black ink.

"Actually I felt quite like a fool when she turned me down. After all, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow and I'm not used being rejected." Jack confessed, a cocky half smile curling up his lips but it didn't reach his eyes. "I even cursed the bloody whelp for his brilliant idea of me proposing to her but then…"

"The whelp? You surely do not refer to young Mr Turner?" Norrington interjected. "Good Lord, I really do hope you did not talk him into piracy again! He's got a wife and a child to care for."

Jack shook his head and gave the Commodore a shrewd look. "Nah, dear young Will Turner might have pirate blood in his veins but deep in his heart he's a landlubber. He's happy that way and I do respect that. It was old Mr Turner I talked into piracy though. Thought he could need a change and we needed a first mate since both Mr Gibbs and Marris weren't available due to family reasons. So we sailed to Malacca and paid good old Bill a visit…"

Malacca, 1693 

Two pirates snuck through the dark streets of Malacca, carefully avoiding the Dutch soldiers on night patrol. They were looking for a specific house and when they finally found it, they climbed over the garden fence. Unfortunately, due to some awkward attempts to help each other, they landed kind of roughly on the other side. Quietly hissing they tried to disentangle their limbs when they suddenly heard the firm sound of footsteps which only soldier's boots could cause. Immediately they shut up and crawled under a bush, even holding their breath for a while until the patrol had passed by and the light of their lanterns had faded around the next corner. Then they stooped closer to the house.

There was only one window open at night and- lucky them- it was on first floor level. Apparently it was also the very window they'd been looking for anyway so it could have been quite easy to get in. If only they weren't constantly in the each other's way.

"Watch out…"

"Ouch, ye stepped on me hand."

"I told ye to watch out. Now don't make such a fuss 'n come up here, we don't have all day…"

"Night. It's night, luv, and…" Climbing the ledge Jack bumped heads with Rowan who just wanted to help him up but as a result he lost balance and dragged her along when he fell into the room. This time, they landed more softly because they landed on a person sleeping beneath the open window. Nevertheless, it was even harder to disentangle their limbs now because of the third person involved and said person seemed to sleep with a pistol under his pillow. They heard the familiar sound of a cocked gun.

"Damned, Bill, is that a way to great an old friend? Ye might not wanna shoot me, aye?"

"Jack?" Bill Turner fumbled around to light the oil lamp next to his makeshift bed then he stared in disbelief at the two pirates. "And Rowan! My, it's so good to see ye two- but can't ye just come knocking like people usually do?"

"Nah. We're pirates, remember." Jack flashed his friend a broad smile showing golden teeth and made himself comfortable, sitting cross-legged on the thin, hard mattress that lay on the floor. "So, now that we're here will ye finally get us something to drink? Actually, I'm almost dying of thirst…"

"What Jack wants to say is that a sip o' rum would be mighty appreciated." Rowan interjected helpfully.

"Ah, isn't she wonderful? Always concerned about me welfare- though ye stepped on me fingers, luv."

Rowan rolled her eyes and elbowed him. Bill couldn't help but chuckle about this incredible couple. They were just the perfect match- both were slightly mad, stubborn and cocky. But while Rowan was impulsive and high-spirited as always, Jack was more restrained nowadays than he used to be. The mutiny must have been a hard lesson to him and Bill still felt guilty about it. He exposed a bottle of Jack's favourite booze that he had hidden from Elisabeth- his daughter in law didn't tolerate such a 'vile' drink in her house- and handed it to his friend. He had kept it for special moments such as this one, knowing that Jack would show up sooner or later.

Jack greedily took a swig before scanning the neatly furnished room. "What's wrong with yer bed, mate?"

Actually there was a bed just opposite the window, covered with white linen bedclothes. A white nightgown lay tidily folded on top of it, and an equally white nightcap. On the wall over the head was a plain wooden cross attached in order to preserve a peaceful sleep.

Bill sighed. "You could say that living in the monastery has spoiled certain conveniences of life to me…"

"Like the pleasure of wearing a nightcap?"

Jack rose to his feet and scampered to the bed, intrigued by the white linen nightcap. He tried it on. Rowan almost shrieked with laughter because of the ridiculous sight. Captain Jack Sparrow stood there in all his grandeur, wearing his red brocade coat, and his dreadlocks welling from underneath the chaste nightcap like serpents from hell.

"Why yer snickering so giggly, darlin'? Doesn't it suit me?"

"Ye surely look breathtaking, sweetheart, but please take it off now or I'll faint from… um, admiration."

Before things could get completely out of control and thus wake the lady of the house, Bill managed to hush the two mad pirates. "Shh, we don't wanna have Elisabeth to spoil our little party here, aye?"

Jack took another swig of rum and declared, imitating Elisabeth's voice. "Rum is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels." Grinning he raised the bottle. "A toast to absent friends- drink up me hearties yo ho."

He sat down again and passed the bottle. "So, how does family life suit good ol' Bootstrap Bill Turner?"

Bill almost spluttered his rum. Then he cleared his throat and claimed he loved living with his newly found family, that his son was such a wonderful, good and brave lad, and little Lydia was simply adorable. But no matter how much he tried to gloss things over it was obvious that he wasn't completely happy with his role as caring father and grandfather. So when Jack offered him the chance to join them aboard the Black Pearl to be first mate again for a couple of weeks, his eyes began to sparkle adventurously. Nevertheless he hesitated to agree.

"Well, of course I have to talk to Will and Elisabeth first, see if they can do without me for a while… and I probably mustn't tell them that I'll be back to piracy again…"

"Oh, we do understand if ye fear for yer reputation, Bill." Rowan said tolerantly. "After all, ye're a respectable man now-"

"A family man." Jack threw in more precisely.

"Aye, a family man. Ye live in a nice house- though ye don't like to sleep in yer nice bed- and…"

"And I hate wearing nightcaps." Bill completed the sentence with a wry smile, then he let out a deep sigh. "Well, as ye might have already guessed, I still have problems adapting the rules of so called civilisation after spending years in a Buddhist monastery. And even though Will and Elisabeth aren't very religious people they secretly consider me a heathen sometimes. Of course they would never speak it out loud but…"

"Um…" Rowan's eyes roamed the room to take in all the signs of 'heathen' culture Bill liked to surround himself with, scrolls in Chinese and Sanskrit, the little Buddha statue next to his makeshift bed- and the room smelled of burned incense. She liked that but it was unlikely that Will and Elisabeth did as it was a completely strange culture to them, which in turn resulted in only one conclusion. "Why, Bill, you **are** indeed a heathen."

He gave her an indignant gaze but Rowan ignored it and continued. "Ye might have forgotten since Buddhism is more tolerant but everyone who doesn't crouch back in line with the Christian church is considered a heathen or at least led astray. I'm not saying I agree with that- you know what happened to my parents- but unfortunately that's the way things go."

"C'mon mates, no more religious talk tonight." Jack interfered. "It doesn't matter what a man believes or not- the only thing that matters is what a man can do and what he can't do. For instance, Bill is a skilful sailor and a damned good pirate therefore I want him to be first mate on the Pearl, at least for this trip. Savvy?"

Bill felt oddly flattered by the fact that Jack considered him a good pirate though that might have been a doubtful compliment to any decent man. But after he had been pressed to join the Navy for a crime that actually wasn't one he had found more decency among pirates than in the so-called noble society, and life in Malacca constantly reminded him of that. Perhaps he'd always be an outsider that would never get integrated into the society of landlubbers again. The sea called him, her call was in his blood and he couldn't ignore it, only hold it back for a while. It had been easy in the monastery when his mind had been occupied with meditation and the study of traditional Chinese medicine, but as soon as he'd seen the Pearl again, the infamous, beautiful Black Pearl, the call had grown louder and louder. He just had to convince his son and daughter-in-law that he needed a short timeout to sail with Jack again. _Would they be understanding?_ he wondered since he still didn't know Will half as well as he wanted to know him. He had been a lad when he last saw him and now he was an adult, a husband and a father himself.

Will and Elisabeth Turner were really thrilled to greet their unexpected guests the next morning at breakfast. Elisabeth immediately rushed to hug the two pirates tightly, chirping delightedly. "Oh my God, it's so good to see you! How are you? When did you arrive? How long will you be staying? Who let you in? I swear I didn't hear a knock at the door."

"I let 'em in. Didn't want to disturb anyone though as it was already quite late." Bill replied. His son patted affectionately his shoulder.

"You're such a light sleeper, father. Even Buddy didn't hear them knocking or he would have barked."

Rowan doubted that the minute she laid eyes on the dog since the formerly unlucky puppy had become a spoiled pet that would never turn into a guard-dog. Probably he'd been dozing on the sofa and didn't bother about two pirates coming in through the window, she thought.

Meanwhile Elisabeth started buzzing through the house like a busy bee, arranging two more sets on the table and giving orders to the cook to prepare breakfast for five instead of three persons. Then she came back with Lydia in her arms.

"Look my little darling, there are uncle Jack and auntie Rowan. Say hello to them, cutie- now, isn't she just adorable? She's grown so big in these past eight months I almost can't believe it. I'm sure she'll be walking soon."

"Ah, how nice." Rowan feigned an interested smile though she really wasn't much interested in little kids and she was even a bit taken aback when Elisabeth handed her the infant.

"Would you please be so good and hold her for a minute? I just have to tell Antje to prepare a room for you."

"Ahem…" She stared at the child in her arms and came up with the wonderful idea to startle Jack a bit by handing the little brat to him; she just wanted to see his reaction. Lydia was thrilled. With her tiny little paws she reached for the wonderfully sparkling, jingling beads in his hair, gabbling cheerfully as she plucked and nibbled at them. And though Jack loved being adored by women, even miniature ones, he definitely didn't like them disrespectfully drooling on his dreadlocks. Bill, aware of his distress, quickly snatched his granddaughter from the pirate's unwilling arms before he could accidentally drop her.

Rowan thought it was done after that. Now they all had seen Lydia so her nanny could come and collect her- only that Lydia had no nanny. Unlike other women of her rank Elisabeth cared for her daughter herself. Rowan also hadn't counted on the enthusiasm the young parents had about their first child, an enthusiasm they wanted to share with the whole world as it seemed. During breakfast and after it Lydia was the main topic of their conversation, and every belch the little brat gave was commented on with delighted outbursts of joy. Then, all of a sudden, Elisabeth threw an examining glance at Rowan's belly which was, of course, as flat and smooth as it used to be.

"Rowan, dear, I really do wonder why you're not with child yet."

Rowan almost spilled her tea. Usually she was never lost for an answer but now she felt slightly overtaxed. Yet it was a lot of fun to see Jack wincing in what seemed panic.

Under the table, Will softly kicked his wife's shin. His eyes told her that such a question was hardly appropriate.

"Why, " she protested definitely, "they've been together for more than a year and a half now and surely had their things settled secretly while away, so it's only natural to ask." Then she saw that none of the two pirates was wearing a wedding ring and frowned. "But you are married now, aren't you?"

The question hung heavily in the room, causing unease. Jack tried to talk himself out of that unpleasant and mightily disturbing situation while Rowan just stared to the floor.

"Ah, we don't wanna rush things. We're just starting to getting to know each other better and these things take its time, ye know. But," now he grinned gleefully, "we already got a cat."

"Jack Sparrow, you're an incorrigible scallywag!" Elisabeth said sharply and pointed an accusing finger at him before looking at her husband for support. "Will, could you please inform your friend that babies are not found under the gooseberry bush because that is a too intimate and embarrassing matter to discuss with a pirate. Tell him to do at least one decent thing in his life so that poor Rowan won't have to deliver a…"

"Enough! My belly's absolutely none of yer concern!" Rowan snapped angrily, outraged about Elisabeth's interference in her life. "Just because ye're married doesn't give ye the right to assume that it's every women's most cherished desire in life to wed and care devotedly for her husband…"

"I think Rowan just wants to say that she's not a born housewife." Jack threw in to placate her but that didn't do much to soothe her temper.

"…and I'm also not born to produce as many brats- preferably sons- as possible only to prove any man's reputation or potency. I am not a brood mare." She continued fiercely, not caring about the damage she caused. Elisabeth simply had no right to judge her relationship with Jack or, even more ridiculous, to tell a pirate what's right or wrong.

The younger woman gave her an indignant glance. "So that's what you really think of me. Sorry for caring about you, I only meant well. Now, I have to go and feed Lydia."

Elisabeth left the room with the natural grace of a noble born woman but the silence following her exit was deafening and the feeling of unease increased with every passing minute. Finally Bill got to his feet and offered Rowan his arm to take a stroll in the garden. Glad to get out of here and away from Will's accusing glare she accepted.

They walked in silence for a while until Bill sat down on a bench under a mango tree.

"Ah, come sit with me and relax. And don't feel affronted by my daughter-in-law. Ye know she just says what comes to her mind- actually she's refreshingly honest for a noble born woman- but ye can't expect her to understand yer way of living. Nevertheless she's a good lass and my Will loves her dearly."

"Oh, I never doubted that." Rowan replied cynically, still fuming.

Bill sighed. "Ye haven't told Jack, have ye?"

She shook her head.

"I guessed so when I saw him flinch."

"Aye, seeing that horrified expression on his face was priceless, yet-" Rowan shrugged. They had never talked about such things, things other couples had in mind when their relationship was getting closer. It had never occurred to her that Jack might want to have kids and his behaviour today had proved her right, but- what if he had only been slightly overtaxed with that matter today? What if one day he wanted to have a flock of young Sparrows sitting at his feet, listening to their father's infamous deeds? She couldn't give him that. Santiago had made it quite clear that she would never be able to conceive a child again after the damage her miscarriage had caused and actually she had been quite glad about it then. Being an independent woman, a female pirate captain, she didn't want to have kids anyway because having kids meant the loss of freedom and she had always craved as much freedom as she could get in a world dominated by men. So somehow she was even grateful to Barbossa for relieving her of that burden. Until now. Now she began to wonder if that might be of any importance to Jack.

"Don't worry 'bout him, he loves ye just the way ye are." Bill said confidently patting her hand.

"Ah, and when 've ye learned to read thoughts?"

The elder man chuckled gently. "My, Rowan, don't ye know that ye're face gives ye away? Ye might manage to hide yer feelings sometimes if ye try hard enough but usually it's not to much avail. Besides, knowing you and knowing him I always thought you'd be the perfect match. Alas, I could never tell ye, Santiago didn't want me to talk about Jack."

"Yet I remember ye mentioning a friend of yers." She mused, thinking back to the times of depression followed Tyag's death. Bill had comforted her then, believing that she will find her soul mate one day and that Tyag simply hadn't been the one. Now she knew that his foresight had been right. Moved with emotions she hugged Bill warmly when suddenly she sensed a shadow towering above her, blocking out the sun.

"May I be so bold to ask ye what're ye doin' there with me woman, Mr Turner? Honestly, man, if it wasn't ye I might feel the need to teach ye manners with this pretty sword of mine." Jack gave them a broad, self assured grin that hid the slight trace of jealousy in his voice as well as the turmoil in his mind that young Will Turner had fanned. Resenting being reprimanded by anyone for being just the way he was he had nevertheless allowed the whelp to speak his mind. And though he had disagreed with most of Will's accusations- he did not behave ruthlessly or inappropriately towards Rowan- his words still preoccupied his thoughts, not leaving him for quite a while.

-

Richard Thornton, captain of the merchant vessel _Southampton Rose_, sighed with resignation when he saw the black ship catching up, flying the pirate's flag. He lowered his spyglass, knowing they could neither escape nor fight back the attack likely to come, so he gave orders to hoist the white flag of surrender. Captain Thornton was a wise man who simply didn't want to risk the lives of his crew.

Only a few moments later the Black Pearl had already drawn alongside and, using grapping hooks, the pirates bound the two ships together. Then they leapt from their vessel to the deck of the Southampton. Due to Captain Thornton's efforts to protect his crew they were greeted with no armed resistance at all.

"Take whatever you miscreants want but please spare our lives." Thornton called out but strangely, the pirates didn't seem too keen to shed blood either.

"Ah, and what is it ye got to offer?"

Thornton turned to the direction the bold, cocky voice had come from and spotted the most eccentric man he'd ever seen. He wore a red brocade coat above a fine silken shirt, dark breeches and shiny leather boots; jingling beads were attached to his long, messy black hair, partly felted in dreadlocks. His peacock impression was only spoiled by the battered old hat atop of his head. He stared at him speechlessly until the pirate repeated his question, sounding a bit impatient this time.

"Tea." Captain Thornton replied not without a certain pride. "I'm in the tea trading business."

Jack frowned. Tea definitely had a value when sold in England or the West Indies but here in Asia it didn't bring much and the hold of the Pearl was already quite stuffed. They didn't need it. Actually they wouldn't have needed to commandeer the Southampton at all since their raid in the Strait of Malacca had been extremely successful so far and his crew was more than keen to finally spend their booty in the taverns of Singapore. He shrugged indecisively. Mayhap they should just leave the merchant vessel and set sails for debauchery, he thought but then he changed his mind.

"D'ye, by chance, have a box of the finest first flush Darjeeling aboard?" Jack addressed the captain before adding. "Me woman just loves havin' a good cup of tea in the mornings."

Thornton shot him a bewildered glance. "A box of Darjeeling? You commandeered my ship and all you ask for is a box of Darjeeling?"

"Well, d'ye rather have us pillage yer ship, burn it, torture and kill the crew, or sell them as slaves, or maroon them on some godforsaken island? " Jack asked courteously, smirking at the other captain who blanched. "No? Then please give me a box of yer finest Darjeeling and off we go."

Meanwhile, Silvers came back from exploring the merchant's hold, followed by Mr Cotton and his parrot who imitated at whistling teakettle, while in between shrieking, "Teatime! Teatime!"

"'Tis juss bloody tea they've loaded, Capt'n." Silvers snarled disappointed.

"Aye, I know. This fine gentlemen here's promised to gimme some for Rowan so we won't bother them any further. Tell Mr Turner we're ready to leave"

"Wind in yer sails! Wind in yer sails!" Parrot croaked.

Thornton thought that these must be the maddest pirates he has ever met- not that he'd met any before, to be honest, but he'd heard stories; stories about violence and cruelties. These madmen were different though.

"I really do wonder why you had to commandeer my ship and threaten my crew just for some tea you could buy at any market?" He heard himself say, uttering his thoughts aloud without considering the consequences. When the pirate captain gave him an odd look he winced, assuming that his previous luck would alter soon. But the eccentric pirate just laughed.

"'Cause we're pirates, savvy? It's more fun that way."

"Fun?"

"Aye, fun."

Before that ineffective conversation could continue another pirate joined them, one hand still clutching a sword.

"Captain Sparrow, let the poor man be. Unless I'm completely wrong there seems to be trouble ahead. Have a look."

While Jack's eyes followed Rowan's outstretched arm to figure out what she was indicating to, Captain Thornton stared at her and gasped with surprise, "You're a woman!"

She gave him a brief glance. "My, now that's what I call a bright guy."

"Ah, have mercy on him. Me thinks he's quite alright- and ye've been right with the trouble ahead."

Boats were approaching them, a small armada of junks. Jack had seen them before, on various occasions, so he knew that they were ruled by more ruthless, blood thirstier pirates than he would ever be; Chinese pirates. And though they had never dared to launch any attack upon the Black Pearl he knew as well that they were dangerous. Also, their number seemed to have increased since last time he had seen them. He was worried. Envy was a nasty thing and the slit-eyes definitely envied him his success in the Strait of Malacca, for snapping the best booty from right under their noses. Apparently it was payback day today.

The Black Pearl was known to be the fastest ship in the Caribbean if not the world, only- sometimes- topped by the Jewel Star. It would be no problem at all to simply break through the line of junks… but what become of the Southampton Rose then. Surely the Chinese cutthroats would vent all of their frustration on the merchant's good captain and his crew, something Jack felt keen to avoid; he gave orders to ready the cannons.

"I might need yer help, mate, so it would be wise to prepare yer men for battle."

Captain Thornton was more than flabbergasted yet he managed to give the required orders. Now that was weird- not quite an hour ago he had reluctantly surrendered his ship to a band of pirates in order to spare his crew and now he was fighting with said pirates a group of others.

The battle didn't last long though. The junks had only a few mid-range cannons that couldn't compete with the Pearl's big cannon, also Jack's crew had continuously practised in firing and aiming them during their stay at Ko Samui. Soon the Chinese gave up and fled in all the different direction they had came from. It was then that Jack spotted a pretty sloop among them, so he drew Rowan's attention on it.

"Now, luv, what d'ye think of her? Doesn't she just look like she has to be Ana's? Ye know, I always promised her a ship and now that she's married and with kid we really should give her a little present, shouldn't we?"

Rowan's eyes gleamed adventurously as she agreed. A couple of days later they arrived in Singapore with two ships and a great amount of loot. Behind they left an astounded merchant captain and the still foaming leader of the Chinese pirates gang who had vowed to take revenge. They didn't give much on his words though.

-

_Singapore_

The trouble started with that dress. It was a pretty dress, made of emerald green silk and black lace, and it had a daringly low cut décolleté. Ever since Jack had found it in one of the trunks aboard the sloop he had pestered Rowan to wear it just once, only for him. So she had decided to do him the favour, thinking that it wouldn't hurt her.

Mimi, a sweet young girl who worked at the tavern they lodged in, helped her with all the petticoats and other odds and pieces the average woman had to fight with every day. Rowan was quite glad she wasn't an average woman because it took ages to dress. And the guys were probably already downstairs enjoying their drinks.

When she finally glanced at her reflection in the stained mirror, she thought she looked incredibly stupid but Mimi clapped her hands in admiration.

"My, ye look beautiful, ma'am, like a real lady."

"Hmpf." Rowan wasn't really convinced. "And were do I put me sword?"

"A lady needs no sword, ma'am. The gentleman protects the lady and Milady has such a fine, charming man, that Captain Sparrow he is. He sees after ye, sure he does. Won't let anything happening to ye."

Rowan gave her a mild smile and hid a pistol in her petticoat, better to be save than sorry. Someone has to protect Jack from his follies, she said to herself so she also hid a dagger in her boots. Mimi frowned.

"Such a shame ye have to wear these boots, ma'am. I cleaned 'n polished 'em but ye'd look so much nicer with some fancy shoes."

_And then I'd definitely fall down that damned staircase_, Rowan thought while making her way downstairs with as much grace as possible. That, of course, wasn't easy since she couldn't even see the single steps because of the long, wide skirt. Again she cursed Jack for this stupid idea of her wearing a dress and she cursed herself for giving in to his stupid idea. She'd never do it again. But then she saw his face, the undisguised pride in his eyes that mingled with passion and desire. He caught her in a possessive grip as soon as he could lay hands on her.

"Ye look…um, unusual." Jack's hands were snaking down her spine; the soft fabric felt good underneath his fingertips. "Unusual in a way that I'd love to have **you** for dinner, if ye know what I mean."

"Well, yer wantonness isn't that unusual to me." Teasingly Rowan slapped his fingers with the fan she carried along when they came trailing down her décolleté now. She wasn't immune to his touch but if he wanted her to dress like a lady she could as well behave like one. At least almost. "Captain Sparrow, I will not consent to a quick encounter on any of these tables."

"It wasn't a quick encounter I had on my mind, luv."

_Hot. It's getting hot in here and that's **not **because of the candles._ Rowan flipped open her fan to cool herself down a bit. She had not spent that much time getting dressed only to hurry straight to bed with this scallywag.

The 'Merry Lobster' was located in Singapore's dock area but despite that it was an almost remarkable clean tavern; the floor was swept each day and the tables were polished. Of course that didn't matter as much to Jack as the fact that they didn't water down the drinks. The rum they served here was probably the finest you could get outside the Caribbean. Nevertheless he ordered a bottle of wine now, knowing how keen Rowan was on red wine, and he just wanted to have a nice evening with her. He wanted to admire the way she looked tonight, so strange and yet so very desirable, and later, he wanted to peel her out of that dress, caress every bit of exposed skin with his lips, devour her. And then, much later, he might ask her… Now, that was something he was a tad scared about- if Captain Jack Sparrow had ever been scared about anything. It was a delicate question, a question that could- and definitely would- change his life. Yet he had been told that that was exactly the right thing to do…

"Don't ye like yer lobster, Jack?"

He gave the crustacean on his plate a quizzical glance, wondering how he should answer that question when he wasn't even sure how to eat it. Probably it wasn't suitable to simply chop it with his sword.

The door opened more frequently now and soon the tavern was crowded with patrons, mostly pirates of various nations but also some local scoundrels. A bunch of ragged ne'er-do-wells, likely to be deserters, sat down on the table next to Jack and Rowan. Despite their poor looks they ordered a bottle of the finest rum and started a game of cards, gambling away piles of coins. Suddenly one of them asked Jack to join in, just the minute he wanted to go upstairs with Rowan.

Jack declined since he had other things in mind but the ragged fellow didn't give up. Obstinately he tried to persuade the pirate, even clung to his arm. When that didn't help either he gave Jack a hard shove only to accuse him of wanting to start a fight.

"That bloody wanker hit me!"

What a ridiculous situation, Jack thought as everyone fell silent and stared at him. In a tavern like this one, crowded with pirates, thieves and other villains, such an accusation would lead almost automatically to a fight since there was always someone who felt pissed off and wanted to vent off his anger on someone else. He half expected the fellows of that ragged guy to jump at him so his hand went threatening to the hilt of his sword. They didn't move though but continued staring at him, venom in their gazes.

"Hey listen, mates, I'm sure we can talk this over and…" Jack tried to talk himself out of the situation, knowing he hadn't done anything wrong, when he was cut off by a snarling voice.

"I'm sure we could do that, birdie, but I'm not interested."

The door had opened once more and the Chinese pirate captain they had left bereft of the sloop had entered. Ill Young, better known as the Fat Squid. It was obvious why he was called fat because that's what he was. He was almost as broad as he was short; a ball of a man dressed in fancy clothes that must have been the latest fashion in Paris about a century ago. At first glance he looked absolutely hilarious. Then he drew his two sabres. Whirling them frenetically through the air he somehow gave the impression of a windmill or- with some imagination- a sabre-rattling octopus.

"I want you to gimme back me ship. I want your head and I want that whore of yours to be mine."

"I'm definitely not interested." Rowan hissed.

"I'm so sorry but unfortunately I must decline your most humbled request since my head looks so much better on me."

"What yer jabbering, birdie?"

"Captain, it's Captain Sparrow." Jack rolled his eyes and put it quiet simple. "Besides, ye little fat bastard won't get nothing from me, savvy?

"Then I will kill you."

Now that was a threat. Jack had heard that too many times and he was still alive while the ones who had threatened him weren't. Though he was quite sure he could deal with that joke of a pirate, he would have felt better if more of his man were around. Unfortunately, most of them had enjoyed Singapore's nightlife to the fullest and even Bill had vanished, probably bedding one of the barmaids. He didn't grudge his friend that little fun- not after he'd spent years in a monastery and, after that, with Will and Elisabeth- but now he missed him.

Meanwhile, Ill Young's man had surrounded him and Rowan. It was apparent that none of those present in the tavern would bet on Captain Jack Sparrow to be winning though on the other hand no one seemed to like the Fat Squid.

Then a chair was tossed at the approaching Chinese pirates and that was the sign of chaos to break loose. One pirate stumbled into a table that broke down, annoying the group of men that had been sitting at that table. Startled, they gave the guy a good beating and sent him flying to the bar where the bartender smacked a bottle of whatever over his head. At once, some of the Chinese attacked the men at the broken table but since they were locals, others rushed for their support. Jack gutted one pirate who came too close to Rowan, and she thanked him with a sweet smile. Damning her skirts for hindering her from join in the fight she unceremoniously shortened them to knee length with her dagger. The sight of bare legs caused some men to forget about fighting and they approached her with leering glances, thinking she was a common whore. She proved them wrong.

"I really do admire yer footwork, luv." Jack shouted at her after she had taken down one attacker with a well-placed kick in the groin. He wrecked a chair on someone else's head.

"You'll pay for that, you bloody bastards!" The host of the Merry Lobster roared.

"Put it on that fat Chinese's bill!"

"Backdoor!" Rowan yelled as she grabbed Jack's arm, sensing it was wiser to leave than to get lost in this mayhem of flying tables, broken glasses and man fighting man for no other reason but to fight, to vent some steam. Luckily he got what she was about and a little later they were running along dark alleys, escaping the bloodthirsty mob. Nevertheless, Fat Squid and his crew were hard on their heels, looking for revenge.

Soon they reached the market square. Even at that late hour it was still crowded by people who came here to sell and buy all night long. Actually that was a perfect place to get rid of their pursuers, Rowan thought as she knocked over a cart with fruits. Lemons, pineapples and mangos sent the Chinese pirates tumbling down like madmen yet that didn't stop their infuriated captain. He was a dangerous man. She could almost see the veins in his temples exploding with hatred and she knew he wouldn't give up until Jack was dead. It would be a pleasure for her to thwart his plans.

Before Jack knew what was going on, Rowan ran across the market square, throwing whatever came to her hands and shouting obscenities at the slit-eyes. He laughed when a dead fish hit Ill Young's face. But though he admired her guts for leading the Chinese away from him he nonetheless worried about her. Mayhap that was a tad too courageous of her. He hesitated, feeling torn between following her, protecting her, or making his own way, heading in the opposite direction as she intended. She was tough, she could make it, he told himself. He had to trust her, otherwise none of that would make any sense at all. Then he saw that the Fat Squid's men had let off Rowan and came back chasing him instead, so he ran.

Singapore was a city that never slept. There was always a hustle and bustle in the streets and some of the best deals were made at night when all the small smuggling boats came in. At every corner something was sold, fisherman were offering their catch, whores offered themselves. In between some sailors were looking for a drink or sleeping it off, and of course there were countless hot food stalls selling snacks.

It the maze of small alleys it wasn't hard for Jack to keep his pursuers at distance. He tossed over some barrels of whatever, spread a bit of chaos and escaped eventually. Not for very long though. Unfortunately he wasn't the only one who knew this town, the Fat Squid and his men knew it too. Suddenly he was trapped in an alley with the slit-eyes approaching him from both sides.

Ill Young sneered spitefully, whirling his sabres. "What now, birdie. Fly over the roof?"

Actually that wasn't such a bad idea, Jack thought when he saw some wooden boxes piled up against a wall. He might not be able to fly over the roof but climb up there and make his escape that way. If only the boxes hadn't been so old and rotten. They collapsed as soon as he had almost reached the roof of that building, sending him back to the gutter in a whirl of broken boards, splinters and straw. He landed on his butt, a bit flabbergasted.

"Kill him!" The Chinaman roared.

Jack plucked some straws out of his hair and shot him an indignant glance. Apparently that lazy bastard wanted to leave the dirty work to his men. Well, he hadn't expected him to be man enough for a fair fight and besides, there were no fair fights between pirates anyway. No rules only guidelines. And he was quite sure that the Fat Squid had never heard of the Code.

"Fifty pieces of eight for the one who brings me his head." Ill Young was spurring on his men when one of them ended in the pile of broken boards had and another one somewhere else in the gutter.

Jack lowered his weapon, feeling offended. "Fifty pieces of eight? I think ye've forgotten a very important thing, mate. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

"So what?"

"Me head's worth more than fifty lousy pieces of eight. According to the Brethren of the Coast even the loss of a finger is worth one hundred pieces of eight. "

Ill Young thought about it and doubled the head money. His men seemed to be much keener to kill now but that was only until Jack offered two hundred pieces of eight for Ill Young's head. Then, they considered their loyalty and came to the conclusion that loyalty won't buy a thing. One very greedy pirate actually made an attempt to attack his own captain. Despite his massive form, the Fat Squid had his sabres handy quickly and gutted the traitor without batting an eye. At once all his men abashedly stepped back in line, not for loyalty but for fear as fear was a strong ruler.

"Kill him or I kill you all!"

"Or you could spare them and prove ye're man enough to fight me." Jack suggested, his lips curled up to a sardonic grin, his eyes dark and the expression unfathomable.

The Chinese pirate captain snorted scornful. He wasn't named squid for nothing. He could whirl his sabres as effectively as if he had four arms, eight arms. No, he didn't fear this birdie. And his men better obediently executed his order or he would keelhaul them, feed them to the sharks.

"Hey sweetheart, I figure ye might need some help?" A voice chirped from above when Jack tried to fend off at least three attackers. He looked up and saw Rowan sitting on one of the adjoining roofs, ready for mischief. But could he admit he needed her help, the help of a woman? Well, facing at least eight hostile pirates plus a fat sabre-rattling one, he could. Actually the only reason not all of them had thrown themselves on him yet was merely that the alley wasn't wide enough.

"Aye, luv, get yer ass down here."

Jack and Rowan had practiced fencing in Ko Samui, had had endless training bouts. They knew their strong and their weak sides, sensing every move the other would make. Fighting back to back now they were a perfect unit and a very dangerous one for the Chinese who soon became aware that they could only lose. Some of them fled while some others remained lying in the gutter where they had been sent, pretending to be knocked out. Perhaps they also wanted to watch unobtrusively how their captain would handle the situation, now that he was alone, face to face with the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. Rowan was curious too.

In a rush of furious rage Ill Young threw himself at Jack like a hopping ball of whirling arms and flashing steel. He was mad and desperate, a hazardous combination. But Jack had the advantage of being more agile, more elegant in his moves.

Rowan loved watching him, the tension in his lean muscles as he leapt an attack, the wry smile on his lips. Fascinated she almost missed the slight movement to her right. Out of the corners of her eye she saw that one of the knocked out pirates felt the need to show loyalty with his captain as he aimed his pistol at Jack's chest. She was too far away to kick it out of his hands so she drew her own gun, shouted Jack a warning, aimed and fired.

Three men were lying on the ground in the narrow alley. The pirate was definitely dead- one couldn't survive with a hole in the head and Rowan gave herself credits for that perfect shot. Ill Young bled from a wound that likely had injured his lungs, he wouldn't live long enough to tell who'd killed him though. But what was with Jack? It took endless seconds before he finally got up, apparently uninjured. He surveyed the scenery and came to the conclusion that the bullet with his name on must have hit the wall behind him instead, bounced off and shot at the Chinaman who was surely fat enough to be a perfect target for any mislead bullet in a narrow alley such as this one. Nevertheless he shook his head in disbelief. Damned, that was close. Then he glanced at Rowan.

"Ye've ruined yer dress, luv."

The pistol in her hand was still smoking, in her other hand she held her sword. Her pretty dress was ragged and torn, shortened at knee length, revealing long, tanned, dirty legs. Her hair had come loose and framed unruly a face dominated by adventurously sparkling green eyes. To him she looked stunning, absolutely beautiful. Jack closed the distance between them and pulled her against him, his mouth crushed on hers for a ravaging, breath-taking kiss. She parted her lips to deepen the kiss, gave all in to it in a moment's madness.

He moaned, her scent seduced his senses. She smelled of sandalwood and salt and something that was simply Rowan. No woman had ever filled him so completely, so maddening that he could drown in her arms, in her kiss. His heart was lost. Probably he had lost it the moment he had stumbled down that step in the _Prancing Dragon_ in Tortuga, two years ago.

"I want ye, I love ye, I need ye. Marry me." Jack murmured into her ear while his hands trailed down her slender body. It felt warm under the smooth silk of her dress, desirable, arousing.

"Jack," she giggled as his beard tickled the soft skin of her neck, "if ye want a quick fuck in a dark alley ye can tell me and ye might find me not disinclined."

Jack arched his brows, his lips curled up to an ambiguous smirk. That sounded promising and he felt very tempted to proceed with that matter but she still hadn't answered his question, a question he wouldn't ask every day. "Does that mean yes?"

"I want ye too." Rowan's voice was thick with desire and lust, an almost animalistic passion caused by the rush of adrenalin still raging in her blood. Arousal overpowered reason. Her body ached for his touch, for his rough hands on her breasts.

"So ye're gonna marry me?"

At once she sort of sobered up and took a step back. Her eyes darkened like the sky when a storm's coming up. "Just what gives ye the idea I wanna marry?"

"Well, every woman wants to get married."

"I'm not every woman."

"Aye, I can see that." Even though Jack grinned, he felt a bit offended by the harsh sound of her voice and he cursed Will for that stupid idea. _'You got to ask her, Jack. Do at least one decent thing in your life and propose to her, make her your wife.'_ Ridiculous. The whelp and his romantic ideals. As if Rowan would become a decent, respectable woman by marrying him, Captain Jack Sparrow, a notorious pirate. He cast her a glance. She was still breathing heavily, still aroused. Apparently she'd rather lift her skirts and let him take her here and now than marry him. Ah, decency was a highly overrated thing. It shouldn't bother him that much that she was about to decline his proposal. But it did.

"Listen, Jack, I'm not gonna marry anyone, savvy? I'm not gonna give in to social pressure and ye'll will never see me walking down the aisle in a white dress…"

"'Course not, ye'll probably tear it before."

"…and kneel to a bloody priest in a bloody church. Hell, we're pirates, we don't need that."

"We could abduct a priest like we did for Marris and Ana. That would spare ye the church." Jack threw in helpfully but Rowan's angry glance warned him that humour was not in order now.

"Damned! We don't need a bloody priest to justify a fuck in a dark alley. Or would ye feel better knowing ye're just claiming yer marital rights? Yer right and my duty. Marriage is nothing else but a socially high-accepted form of slavery, a way to oppress women and make them a man's obedient property- with the bloody church's blessing of course. But I'm not gonna be anybody's possession. I'm not gonna swear an oath of love and obedience to a God who wants to see me rot in hell if I break it."

Suddenly it occurred to her that she'd gone too far since she could see hurt flash in Jack's eyes and that hadn't been her intention.

"Did ye have the same aversions against marriage when that Indian prince asked ye to marry him?" He asked sullenly, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

"I was young and naive then." Rowan snapped defiantly; she didn't want to think of Tyag now.

"Ah, and now ye're so fucking superior. Ye talk about social pressure, marital rights, property- but what about love?"

"Love's got nothing to do with marriage. Most marriages today are arranged to gain profit and…"

"Stop talking in that smart ass way of yers." Jack yelled. In a sudden outburst of frustration he pinned her against the wall with his body, threatening. He was sick and tired of hearing her objections, her stupid excuses, when all he wanted was to marry her, to make her his wife. Realizing that was a shock to him. He had always considered marriage to be a thing for other people but not- never- for him. Now his change of mind scared him to death. It scared him even more to imagine a life without Rowan. His mouth closed on hers in an attempt to silence all of her refusal, to prove her wrong and show her that love was all that mattered. And she yielded to his kiss. Sometimes it was much easier to communicate without words. He kissed her jaw, the curve of her neck, working his way down to the seam of her décolleté.

"Luv, I really mean it. I wanna share my life with ye. Ye know, living together, sailing together, plundering together, even growing old together- all that sort of things. I want something solid. A pirate's family life."

Rowan stiffened. Family. She sighed. "I can't have kids."

He looked up from the swell of her breasts and into her face. Was it relief she saw in his eyes, mingled with a touch of sadness?

"Well, um…" he shrugged and shot her his trademark smile, "that's alright to me. We can have another cat then."

"Jack!"

"Or perhaps a little dog?"

"Jack Sparrow, d'ye listen to me at all?"

"Aye, luv, precisely. Every word ye said. They do lack meaning though. I love ye and I want ye and that's all that matters."

_And what Captain Jack Sparrow wants he would get._ Nevertheless Rowan felt moved by his persistence, his cocky smile, the way his eyes were stubbornly fixed on her; it rendered her helpless. She could hardly resist him any longer, neither his touch nor his logic. After all, she wanted the same. They were good together and not only in bed. He made her laugh, he made her feel beautiful, desirable, wanted, wantonly. With him she could be just herself, with all her rough edges. He had gotten under her skin like no other man had ever done before and she simply loved his brilliant madness, his cocksure way. She loved him for all he was and she also wanted something solid, something lasting. She could even imagine growing old with that bloody scallywag. But she would, never, under any circumstances, let a damned priest justify their love. So if she didn't want to offend him- and it slowly dawned on her that it must have taken him a lot to ask her such a significant question, with so much persistence- she had to think of something else, a more suitable way for her to agree his proposal. Letting him take her here and now simply wouldn't do it, although it would definitely satisfy them both. At least for a moment…

She leant her body closer to his, needing contact, friction. Of course that didn't help her to formulate an idea but it felt good being so close to him, to inhale his scent of rum, salt and manliness. Her hands went off on their own, fidgeting impatiently with his belt when suddenly she heard hasty footsteps approaching them. Immediately she left go of Jack and grabbed her sword. So did Jack, alerted like she was.

"Blast! And I thought ye're in grave danger! But apparently _Captain_ Jack Sparrow and _Captain _Rowan Scarlett can deal perfectly with their own little problems and still find time for a little fun in between. Sorry for disturbing ye, mates."

"Bootstrap! My friend! How good te see ye!" Jack shouted with faked enthusiasm. "Seems ye always got the perfect timing for being either too late or too soon."

"So it seems." Bill replied tartly, feeling guilty. It was the same old guilt that had eaten him ever since the day of the mutiny, when he had failed to save Jack from Barbossa. And though he had spared his friend a fate worse than just being marooned on a godforsaken island- probably Jack would never know what that sick bastard otherwise had had in mind with him- he still felt guilty because he hadn't been there for him today either. In the hour of need he had sought oblivion, satisfaction, even salvation in the arms of a whore.

Rowan elbowed him friendly and locked her arm with his. "Ah, but since yer here anyway ye might as well help us sorting out a little problem of ours." She smiled conspiratorial at him. "Ye know, that rascal wants to marry me and I've gotta find a smart way to keep him without ending up in church with him."

"Aye. Tried to be decent for the first time in my life but apparently I didn't pass the test." Jack threw in casually as he took Bill's other side, wrapping an arm around his friend's shoulder. Linked like that they left the alley and walked along the streets of Singapore, leaving it to Rowan to lead them as she seemed to be the only one with an idea where to go.

"Ah, don't worry. I'm just trying to figure out how serious ye are."

"Me? Well, I just wanna put a ring 'round yer naughty little fingers 'n make ye mine. My woman. My wife."

"A ring? Good to know." Rowan stopped in front of a house and cocked her head. "So, how about getting a ring now?"

Sceptically, Jack looked at the building and then at Rowan. "That's no jewellery store, luv. That's Mr. Wu's place."

"Aye, I know."

"But he's a tattoo artist."

Rowan smirked provocatively. "So what? You said you want something solid and I guess a tattooed ring is quite solid, un-removable so to say. Or d'ye get cold feet now?" She shot a glance to Bill. "I think he's got the shits."

Jack planted himself in front of her indignantly, hands in unrest as if he felt the urge to strangle her. Then he decided otherwise and stepped so close to her that their noses almost met, staring defiantly into her eyes. Accusingly he put his index finger at her chest. "Missy. I. Am. Captain. Jack. Sparrow. Savvy?"

She met his gaze and their eyes locked. To Bill it seemed like they were having out a silent battle of stubbornness and defiance, the old challenge of who'll look away first, who'll give in. Actually neither of them really did, but after a while Jack's lips twitched slightly, forming a grin, and then his arms came around Rowan and his mouth crushed on hers. Apparently they had reached an agreement. Then- before they could cause public outrage because of their wantonly behaviour- they walked into the tattoo shop, still heartily entwined and teasing each other about who'd flinch first when the needle carved their skin.

"Come on Bill, ye'd be our witness." Jack invited him.

With an amused shaking of his head Bill joined them as he wouldn't want to miss that. And he couldn't help but give them his blessing. Though they were mad, they were definitely good together- the perfect match of mad pirates.


	5. the Tiger strikes

Chapter 5- The Tiger strikes 

A wry smile escaped Jack's lips when he thought about the day of his non-wedding with Rowan, knowing that she was his wife nonetheless. After all they had made some kind of vow that day in the tattoo shop when the ink was carved into their skin; they were bound together forever now. And though no priest had justified their very own ceremony the people of Ko Samui had believed them to be a married couple ever since. No more disparaging looks, no more whispers when Rowan walked down the streets. Not that she had ever cared about that before.

He sighed, suddenly feeling weary. The bottle in his hand was reaching its end faster than this bloody day which was only half over while the bottle was already half empty, and the opportune moment hadn't come yet. Usually he was good at waiting but today it dragged him down. Maybe it was because of Norrington. He'd never felt well in the presence of men wearing wigs since every single hair of them seemed to be powdered with authority, the breath of laws he preferred to disobey. It simply was like two different worlds colliding- and yet, the Commodore wasn't such a bad guy. A bit too stiff perhaps, too fixed on the rules of society and what's called decency, but nevertheless, deep down in his heart, a good man. Otherwise he wouldn't be sitting here, chatting with him, killing time.

The knock at the door startled both of them. James blanched as if caught in the act of doing something forbidden and of course, harbouring a wanted pirate in his house wasn't quite appropriate in his position. He looked to Jack who had… vanished. He wasn't sure if that was a good sign.

Lieutenant Brody walked in, looking very excited the way he waved an envelope in his hands.

"Sir, please excuse me for being so forward but I think this will interest you. It's a letter from that Dutch governor of Ceylon, Thomas van Ree, whose reply you've been waiting for for so long."

"Thank you." Norrington took the letter but hesitated to open it since Brody remained standing in the room, eagerly waiting. "Is there anything else, Lieutenant?"

"Well, Commodore…"

"Speak up, as I don't have all day." _And there's a pirate hidden somewhere in my office_, James added in his thoughts He could still feel Jack's presence, his eyes on him, though he couldn't see him. It was an uncomfortable situation.

"Sir, you might have already noticed that not all of the Navy officers here are too pleased with your actions since some of them have gained good money by bribing the pirates that roam these waters..."

Yes, he had noticed that. It was a problem caused by his corrupt predecessor Hugh W. Woods and James would not tolerate such things during his period of office. But was he any better? After all, he did have a certain weakness for a certain pirate otherwise Jack Sparrow would be in jail where he belonged and not hiding in his office.

"… I almost had to snatch this letter out of Captain Clayton's hands or else he probably would have withheld it. Take a look Sir, the seal's broken."

Brody was right, the seal was broken. James opened the letter and read it over while he made a mental note to promote the promising young man and to demote Captain Clayton who had in fact been a trouble-maker ever since he had arrived. He sighed. Commodore Woods had really left him a pile of work and it didn't get better. Actually, it got even worse.

"Oh my God." he breathed.

"Bad news, Commodore?" Brody asked.

"You can say so." James mumbled absent-mindedly and read the bad news aloud. Jack had to hear that- but he secretly wished he could spare it to him.

"_Dear Sir, in response to your letter I can assure you that piracy- at least in its common form- is not the reason for the mentioned incidents that happened in Palm Strait. Though I do regret the casualties I can not avoid pointing out that the problems both of our nations have to deal with now is mainly caused by the British authorities in Madras. There is reason to believe that the former Maharaja of Madras, Shardul Chopra, after being banished by the alliance between Mogul Aurangzeb and Governor Wellington, took refuge in the Kingdom of Kandy. As you may know, said Kingdom is a constant threat to all honest Christians since its ruler, King Wimeladharmsuriya II, is a black hearted heathen who encourages brutal massacres against those who believe in God the Almighty. Thank the Lord and the strength of the Dutch army we had managed to keep him at bay but with the appearance of Shardul Chopra the situation unfortunately got out of our control. I can honestly affirm you that Shardul Chopra is the personification of malevolence, equipped with ambitions more evil than the Antichrist himself. His hunger for gold is immense but his sinful hunger for fair, innocent maidens to enrich his legendary harem is even more detestable. To my great regret I have to confess that all attempts to get hold of the man have failed due to his wickedness and cruelty. The good people of Ceylon fear him. Even the streets of Colombo are not safe from his unexpected raids though he prefers the waters of Palm Strait for his ill-fated attacks as he resides in the fortress Kalpitiya, given to him as a present by King Wimeladharmsuriya. Kalpitiya is a dark, nigh impregnable place built on the steep cliffs of a small island; it is also called the Black Citadel of No Return because no one had ever returned from there. It is believed he celebrates unholy masses there, worshipping a demon god and bringing blood sacrifices at the dark of moon…_

"Ah, but if no one has ever returned from there how do people know about that?" Jack wondered. He gave up his hiding place and took the letter from Norrington's hands to read it himself. He clenched his teeth, not showing his emotions, though it was hard for him. His stomach cringed and he feared for Rowan. Nevertheless he managed to crack a smile at the Commodore. "Well, it seems the Brits aren't coming off too well in van Ree's eyes, aye?"

"So it seems. He uses very polite words but, in fact, he accuses the Crown and the Royal Navy for not having dealt properly with Shardul. I guess he's right. I'm sorry, Jack."

Both of them had completely forgotten Lieutenant Brody who now cleared his throat after having stared open-mouthed at Jack's flamboyance he hadn't noticed the night before.

"Beg your pardon, Sir, but is that man really a member of your family? He looks like a pirate to me."

James blushed. What should he say now? A lie could harm his credibility but the truth even more. Jack, however, solved that problem in his very own way, proud as a peacock and definitely daft.

"I'm not just any pirate. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, son. Savvy?"

_Oh no!_ James sent a quick prayer to whoever was able to save his reputation now and hurried to explain. "It isn't what you might think now, Lieutenant Brody. I'm **not** like Sir Woods, taking bribes from pirates instead of hunting them down. I do detest piracy. But I owe that man my life, be he pirate or not. That's the reason I haven't arrested him as I should have done, according to my position as Commodore of the Royal Navy."

"I'm not blaming you for that, Sir." Brody shrugged, his eyes still on Jack and it was fascination that flashed in them. He had heard all the stories about him but he had never expected to meet the legend in flesh and blood. Also, he was glad that his superior had proved to be a man who did in fact have emotions, was human after all and not just a proper functioning officer. That made him more likeable, more acceptable. Yet it was the pirate he addressed now, eyes almost as huge as those a child seeing Santa Claus for the first time. "Did you really vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company and sacked Nassau without firing a single shot?"

"Ask Jamie, he knows all my crimes. I gotta go now, ye know pirate's stuff waiting for me…"

Jack made an attempt to leave the office but Norrington didn't let him go.

"Where do you want to go?"

The pirate rolled his eyes and shot him an impatient gaze. "Mate, my woman is in the hands of a cruel man with a legendary harem and I take that very personally so I have to go and get her back, savvy? Sorry if I miss tea time."

"Jack, that's madness. The Dutch authorities in Ceylon don't fear Shardul Chopra for no avail, the man's dangerous. You can't just go there and ask him to give back your wife."

"I'm not intending to ask him, I'll simply take what's mine."

"But he lives in a nigh impregnable fortress!"

"Commodore Norrington," Brody interfered, "may I…"

"Not now, Lieutenant!" James growled and grabbed Jack's arm since the pirate wanted to make use of this slight distraction and disappear. "Wait. You're heading for disaster. The Dutch had no means to get hold of Shardul so what can you?"

"The Dutch, the Dutch- seems ye've forgotten a very important thing mate..."

"Yes, you're Captain Jack Sparrow, I know that. But I doubt you can impress Shardul with that simple fact. Do you have a plan, any plan?"

Jack shot him a dark, determined look that made Norrington quiver and he was reminded once again that he was not dealing with a civilized English gentleman but with a pirate, a pirate who didn't take kindly to being cornered.

"Well, unless ye wanna join me crew and become a pirate yerself, swear to the code, and follow my commands- very unlikely, I guess- ye better let go off me now. _You _may feel inclined to accept the responsibility for yet another failure in dealing properly with Shardul, but **I** don't."

James sighed. "Yesterday you didn't even know where your crew was and…"

"Yesterday, I was slightly indisposed. Nevertheless I wasn't so indisposed to give away my crew." Jack cut him short as he struggled to free himself of Norrington's grip. Mayhap the Commodore just meant well- which was bewildering enough concerning their earlier relationship- but he really had no time for sentimentalities at the moment.

Any outsiders looking through the window in Commodore James Norrington's office might have felt tempted to misinterpret that scene and so did the group of pirates who now invaded the room now, cutlasses and pistols in their hands. They aimed their weapons at the two Navy officers, believing them to threaten Jack.

"Let go of him! Immediately!" One of the men barked.

Norrington turned to face the speaker and saw an older version of Will Turner, one that looked more like a pirate. And he looked absolutely determined to make use of his sword.

"Ye're alright, Jack?"

"Well, Jamie, " Jack smirked as he indicated Bill to lower his weapon with a casual wave of hand, "there's me crew. All good and trustworthy men. I swear ye can't stop them from saving me from situations I don't need to be saved from. So, I've got a crew which means I've still got a ship…"

"Jamie?" An elder pirate interrupted questioningly, quite astonished and at the same time with unhidden mistrust. He scanned the Commodore from head to toe. "Ye call him _Jamie_, captain?"

"Aye, I believe that's his name."

"Mr. Gibbs?" Norrington replied equally astonished now since he knew that man. Several years ago they had sailed to the Indies together, he being a promising young Lieutenant and Gibbs just one of those many unlucky souls who would end up as an indentured servant in the colonies. Apparently he had chosen piracy instead. Somehow he couldn't blame him for that- _My God, what strange thought to be sneaking around in my mind_, he marvelled.

Meanwhile Jack's gaze had fallen on a blonde tousle-head who looked kind of beaten. "Two ships. Good to see ye, mate, but what the hell's happened to ye?"

"I managed to escape Shardul's henchmen- I'd look worse if they'd caught me." Marris cracked a wry smile, winced at the pain his broken ribs caused him, and continued emphatically. "Jack, we gotta do something, urgently. Shardul- Tyagraja's evil brother- has captured Rowan and he's not the kind of guy ye take lightly. He's a dangerous, cruel sadist."

Jack's insides cringed at that thought. He wished Rowan had told him more about the things that had happened then so that he could have been warned, prepared, whatever. But no, she had kept it all to herself- which was understandable- and so he'd heard the name Shardul today for the first time. Shardul, the tiger…

"If he's such a cruel guy, why did she walk away with him? To me it didn't seem he had a hard job in capturing her." He knew there was a hint of jealous distrust in his voice but he didn't give a damn.

"She wanted to save you, Jack."

Jack tsked indignantly because he didn't consider himself the one in need to be saved since he was, after all, Captain Jack Sparrow. But Marris immediately brought him back to the base of facts.

"You don't know Shardul, you have no idea what he's capable of. You would have been totally unprepared."

"Aye, mayhap. But only because ye two have unfortunately failed to mention Shardul. Ye stressed avoiding Madras without ever caring to fill me in."

"That's not my fault. I thought Rowan had told you and besides, **she**'s the one who's paying for it now."

Jack blanched, aware of the fact that this was not the right time for accusations. But he felt so frustrated, so helpless. He still believed that if Rowan had made a sign, just a simple gesture to indicate she was in distress, he would have been able to prevent anything happening to her. Instead she hadn't said a word. She had walked away with Shardul without ever looking back to him, as if she didn't know him at all. Of course he had only watched that scene from a distance, from the inside of a tavern where he had been waiting for her.

Marris put a comforting hand on Jack's shoulder before he sat down on a chair the Commodore hadn't offered him. He sighed.

"I wish I could have done something but… the situation was weird. You know we had gone to buy some last supplies and on our way back to the tavern we suddenly became aware of a certain change of atmosphere in town. People hurried to their houses, locked the doors, even closed the shutters. Within minutes the streets were empty, almost desolated, when they should have been buzzing with folks. Soon we found out why. A large troop of men wearing demon masks was roaming the town, plundering shops and chasing after young women who hadn't made it home in time. They frightened everyone but us. We were so naïve, so damned self-assure they wouldn't dare to threaten us. We believed they were pirates just like us. But we were wrong, completely wrong... Then we heard the trumpeting sound of an elephant. Have you ever seen a war elephant Jack? It is an impressive sight with its big tusks. The size of the beast is frightening enough and decorated with blackened with brass shields there are no arms to stop it. However, the howdah it carried was more like a sedan-chair, covered with heavy curtains and on these curtains was a coat of arms I had hoped never to see again in my life. A black tiger swallowing the world and riding on that tiger was Nirrti, ebony skinned, naked, with flowing golden hair. I was stunned, shocked- and so was Rowan. Nevertheless she reacted immediately, telling me to hide. And hide I did…"

"You bloody coward!" Jack grabbed Marris at the collar and hauled him to his feet, not caring that the blonde pirate yelped with pain. Instead he gave him a good shaking. "You **knew** Rowan was in grave danger but all you did was hide! You let Shardul snatch her, take her away without even lifting a finger to help her! Only scared about yer own little arse, ain't ye! And ye called yerself her friend!"

"Jack! Stop it! He's injured, can't ye see?" Bill intervened, trying to cease the struggle.

"He'll be really badly injured when I'm done with him!"

"Damned!" Marris cried out. "Lemme explain…"

Bill managed to get hold of Jack and drag him away. He had never seen his friend so upset before- well, except the day he had told him about Alf. That had led to a chain reaction of calamities and tragedies but unlike then Jack calmed down a bit before Anamaria could join in the fight, eager to protect her husband. Meanwhile Mr Gibbs aimed his pistol at Norrington so that the Navy officer couldn't even think about doing anything stupid.

That moment, there was a polite knock at the door.

"Your tea, Sahib."

The situation couldn't have been more grotesque. A neatly dressed servant entered the room and placed a silver tray with fine china on Norrington's desk just like he did every day. Then he hesitated, looking dignified at the illustrious shades that crowded the office today.

"You have visitors, Sahib?" It was a rhetorical question. "I'll let the cook know to boil more tea, if you please, Sahib."

"Yes, please. I think we could all need a good cup of tea. Thank you very much, Tamal." James replied though he definitely could have needed something stronger than tea now. A bottle of whiskey for example- and then he would sit down and get drunk while watching the pirates doing his job by killing themselves. But William Turner senior seemed to have the situation well under his control for now and he had managed to do that in an almost gentle way. Young Will Turner had probably inherited his hot-headedness from his mother.

Marris, sitting in the chair again and being protected by Anamaria, made an attempt to explain why he had hidden instead of throwing himself into a fight that was doomed to fail anyway and which had only brought up consequences none of them had wanted.

"Jack, believe me, I would have done something, anything, to avoid what had happened given there had been any chance to survive it…"

"I'd die for her." Jack snapped stubbornly but that only made Marris' blood boil.

"Aye, sure ye'd do, ye fool- and exactly that's what Rowan feared. She knew her fate was sealed the moment she saw Shardul walking up to her, so all she could do then was to limit the damage. She knew as well that Shardul wouldn't kill her since he still wanted her like he had wanted her the first time he'd seen her, when she was his younger brother's fiancé…"

"Ah, are ye just trying to tell me not to worry 'cause the mean guy with the legendary harem only wants to fuck my woman?" Looking at Marris, Jack knew that he had guessed right. It didn't improve his mood though. Just the thought of another man touching Rowan made him feel sick. "I hope ye don't expect me to shout huzzah now," he said cynically, tempted to beat Marris black and blue .

"Rowan's tough, she's mentally strong enough to endure that..."

Jack let out a gasping sound, not believing Marris had really said that.

Unimpressed, the blond pirate continued. "… but it would break her to see you or me, or anyone she cares for, being tortured to death just because we care for her, and that's what Shardul would have done. He would have caught you if he knew what ye mean to her and then he would make Rowan watch ye die for days. There are many ways to die but he knows the slowest. Mayhap ye say now ye'd have found a way out since ye're Captain Jack Sparrow, the infamous and legendary scallywag, and though I definitely won't deny yer talents of talking yerself out of almost every situation, I swear ye would have failed with Shardul. That's why she didn't ask for any help, that's why she went with him. If she had told ye about him, things might have been different. Then ye would have been prepared, not falling in to his superficial charm which he would have fooled ye with. I know it's not a comforting thought but it was her decision to be that sacrifice for you. After all, she knows we're still alive and free, heading for her rescue, and that will give her strength." _And if Jack hadn't been so foolish to set sails for Madras head over heels, if he had stayed in Colombo at least one more night, we would be much closer now,_ Marris thought but didn't dare to speak. He hadn't managed to escape Shardul's henchmen to go get himself killed by a raging, mad and frustrated pirate. Nevertheless he could understand Jack. If anything happened to Anamaria or Fernando, their little son, he would react no different. Staying alive for them and the unborn child Ana carried was his main thing….

…_they spotted him, at long last, and Shardul screamed for his head. Apparently he still blamed him for his interference at the crematorium ground in Madras. So he ran off, hoping that Rowan would manage to escape in the havoc he was causing. He fired his pistol, shooting anywhere, at anyone. He didn't mean to kill in the first place but elephants were said to be scared of gunfire. Not that one though. That one remained stoic. He dropped his pistol and ran, followed by at least ten men eager to kill him. Very encouraging. He ran. 'Not to the harbour, don't lead them to the Jewel,' a voice told him and he agreed to that. But where to go, where to hide? 'Run to the hills, leave the town.' He threw a glance over his shoulder, sensing he was not alone. Of course not, with ten or more pursuers on his heels. Yet the feeling remained, the feeling of being watched, guarded. Santiago! 'Run, boy, don't stop. Don't let them catch you. You're still needed.' Then the link to the long dead magician faded and he was on his own again, running up and down through the hills adjoining Colombo, followed by Shardul's henchmen. A shot rang through the silence only disturbed by cicadas and even they seemed to stop their monotone chirping when he fell… deep. _

_Sand. He woke up at a beach. The moon was shining and he was- surprisingly- not dead, not shot. Nevertheless the joy about being alive ceased when the pain hit. Are ribs really necessary? He could do without them. Maybe it was better to be dead. 'Nah, boy, get a grip on yourself. Think of Rowan. You're needed.'_

_"Santiago?" He shouted but he was alone again and the way back to the town, to the docks, would be a very long and painful one. However, Ana was there, and Fernando. And she had told him just this morning that she was with child again. His family waited for him. He had to go. He had… Rowan!… damned, he had to tell Jack._

_But when he finally arrived at the docks only one dark ship was moored there. The Black Pearl was gone. If it wasn't for Bootstrap Bill, the only guy able to figure out what made mad Jack tick, he still wouldn't have found him and he didn't know whether this was good or bad…_

Marris ran his fingers through his hair, making even more a mess, then looked at Jack. "However, I know Shardul's hiding place. The elephant he rode most likely belonged the king of Kandy as all elephants are royal property, capturing or killing them carries a death penalty…"

"He's not hiding in Kandy." Jack cut him short. "King Wim-whatever and Shardul are buddies but they're not living together. Probably his palace isn't big enough to harbour two harems so the good king was kind enough to offer him the fortress Kalpitiya as guesthouse that he can pester the Palm Strait."

"Kalpitiya?" The colour drained from Marris' cheeks. "Ye're sure?"

"Well, that's what the Governor of Ceylon wrote and I guess he should know."

"That place is known to be nigh impregnable."

"Now isn't it good we don't wanna take the bloody fortress but only get Rowan outta there?"

Norrington rolled his eyes when he heard that. He couldn't help but wonder just how Jack meant to do that. Then his glance fell on the pile of files on his desk, all the unsolved cases of missing young ladies- now he had an idea where they might be. He should…

"Commodore Norrington, Sir…" Lieutenant Brody finally managed to get his superior's attention. "… please forgive me for being so frank but I have to tell you now. Kalpitiya, the Black Citadel of No Return is not impregnable…"

The beads in his hair clinked when Jack turned his head abruptly, staring at the young lieutenant. "What did ye say? I mean- why haven't ye mention that before?"

It was needless to remind them that no one had paid attention to him so Brody cleared his throat and simply told them what he knew. "My father was an adventurous soul and when my mother died, he sold our estate to buy a ship. He took me and my sister, and set sails for Asia so I grew up here. We visited many places no foreigner ever went and we also visited Kalpitiya; it was deserted then. We dropped anchor in a small bay, a natural harbour hidden from any unfriendly eye out to sea- I suppose that's where Shardul now keeps his ships. There were cannons to protect the harbour entry…" Brody searched for the right words to explain their position but then decided otherwise and asked for permission to take a sheet of paper from the Commodore's desk, scribbling down a detailed plan of the grounds the way he memorized it. "The cannons were rusted when we were there but it's likely Shardul had replaced them by now. Yet, the thing I remember best as it was a thrilling experience for the young boy I was then, was the cave. You can't see it from the sea since there are some offshore rocks protecting the tiny beach, and the mouth of the cave is concealed behind scrub. I discovered it nevertheless, so I explored the cave and found a spiral staircase leading upwards to the deserted fortress. It was really exciting."

Jack snatched the plan from Brody's hands and glanced at it for several minutes, his expression unfathomable. Then the corners of his mouth twitched and he flashed the Lieutenant a golden smile. "Wanna join me crew, mate?"

"Sparrow!" Norrington shouted indignantly. "I won't allow you to woo away any English Sailor under my command nor accept an invitation for piracy in my house."

Jack ignored him. A plan was already forming in his brain… all they had to do was disable the cannons and cause a bit of distraction so that he could steal into the fortress and get Rowan back. And if Shardul had dared to harm a hair of her head he would hack him into pieces with the greatest pleasure. Usually he was not an overly violent man but he had limits one shouldn't overstep.

Meanwhile the two Navy officers led a heated discussion, though in low tone, concerning pirates or- more precisely- allying with pirates.

"Sir, I might be forgetting my place now but why not consider to joining Captain Sparrow?"

"You **are **really forgetting your place, Lieutenant Brody." Norrington rebuked the young officer, though he had thought about that himself. But the thought was inappropriate. "Any debate about that is out of place. Captain Sparrow is a pirate and no matter how many times I owe him me life, the Royal Navy will not intervene to bring back a pirate's wife."

"But all the other missing young ladies? Commodore, they are English citizens."

The pile of unsolved cases was inevitably there, on his desk, and it wouldn't vanish nor decrease by doing nothing. Nevertheless- "There is no certainty that an alliance with pirate's would come to any desirable result let alone save these unfortunate women. If this mission fails I have to justify my actions in front of the military trial in London, accepting the responsibility for neglecting my duties, conspiring with opponents of the Crown, high treason…"

"But if we succeed King George may be inclined to knight you for your courage of trying even the most unusual way to save British people."

"No. There is no guarantee." Norrington shook his head, knowing his argumentation was hollow. There was never a guarantee for anything in life but death.

"Commodore, I'm not asking you to ally with any pirate. He's Captain Jack Sparrow, the man who had sacked Nassau port without firing a single shot and who vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company…"

"Thank you, Lieutenant, I studied his file a long time ago so you don't need to fill me in. I know the facts." He sighed. He had the responsibility for the Royal Navy in Madras, he could not risk the life of any honest sailor for a mad idea, a mad plan- and it was most likely that Jack would come up with a mad plan. On the other hand, sometimes madness and brilliance coincided, but he was quite sure it wasn't brilliance that made him turn around to address the pirate captain. "Captain Sparrow, may I have a word with you please?"

Jack couldn't believe his ears when he heard what Commodore Norrington, the model of a dutiful and stiff Navy officer, offered him. He scratched his ears in an exaggerated gesture, then cocked his head. "Ah, I think ye gotta repeat that. I'm not sure…"

"Sparrow, you did understand me quite clearly."

"Mates! Our friend Jamie wants to engage in piracy!" Jack shouted out cheerfully, which made James cringe. He almost regretted his words uttered in a moment of mental derangement.

"I have **not** said anything like that. I just offered you the chance to follow the Royal Navy's fleet and together take the fortress Kalpitiya to free all the women kidnapped by Shardul- under my command, with the permission of Governor Clayton."

"Well, I got what ye said but to me it seems we have to negotiate a few minor details, such as the question under whose command we sail. Since I doubt ye have a good plan, " the expression on Norrington's pale face told Jack he was right, "and since I'm the only one with a plan- except to beg for Governor's permission to do the right thing- so apparently that makes me the one predestined to be in command."

"Forget it. No pirate will ever give orders to decent English sailors."

"Yer funeral." The pirate shrugged and headed for the door. "I wasn't interested in yer offer anyway as no decent pirate would ever accept orders given by a Navy guy. Ah, but such a pity for all the nice young ladies…."

"Jack! Wait!" James wished the ground would open up and swallow him for his thoughtless outcry but nevertheless he continued to make a fool of himself. "We can talk about that. We will find a solution. By God, I know you're not so cruel and abandon innocent women to their fate."

_Innocent? What a strange word to choose in regard of women that had been captured to join Shardul's legendary harem,_ Jack pondered cynically when it struck him again that Rowan was also one of them. He hated that thought. He hated the way it made his insides cringe and left him feeling helpless since he wasn't helpless- he was Captain Jack Sparrow, therefore he would save her, get her back. But well, the help of several Royal Navy ships could be quite an asset too. At least it wouldn't do any damage. So he stopped, giving the impression like he was frozen in his tracks- though he had already expected Norrington to hold him back- and turned around.

"Well, what d'ye got to offer now, Jamie? But whatever it is, hurry up. I don't have all day."

_There is no way to negotiate with Captain Jack Sparrow and hope to win, he makes you think you reached a decent agreement but in the end it is probably only for his benefit. After all, he's a pirate. I'm a fool to believe this alliance could succeed…yet, I wouldn't be on my way to Governor Wellington if I truly doubted it. _

Governor Wellington was a high decorated old officer who had fought in many wars. Though he had lost a leg, and his left arm was almost poker stiff, retirement had never come into his mind; even from a desk he could still serve his country, his king. Nevertheless he was not an uncompromising royalist. Lord George Wellington preferred to make up his own mind and a very sharp mind he had indeed. He was a thoughtful man who never spoke too much or too hastily- usually he took his time and puffed on his pipe before answering at all- but what he had to say always made sense.

Now Wellington listened with interest when Commodore Norrington told him about his plan and James, still not knowing him half as well as he wished, took his following silence as a sign of disapproval. He looked to the floor and cursed himself for bothering his superior with such a stupid idea while Wellington puffed on his pipe, exhaling perfect round rings of smoke in the air. Then the governor surprised him.

"Well, Commodore, it's about time that London sent me a promising young man who isn't too posh to roll up his sleeves and do a proper job. I really appreciate your efforts."

"Thank you very much, Sir." James saluted.

"But- as much as I would like someone to put a stop to Shardul's evil game- the fleet of Madras is hardly suitable to execute your plan. You often complained about the poor quality of our cannons, their lack of range. How do you want to attack a nigh impregnable fortress with inferior weapons?"

Wellington was right. Without the help of the pirates there was no chance to even think about attacking Kalpitiya so the poor women would be left to their regrettable fate. Nevertheless, James doubted that Governor Wellington would appreciate the support of pirates. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks and thanked for the invention of white powder so he would at least not look like a young boy expecting a telling-off while he searched for the right words. Finally, he blurted out, "Sir, we have an unexpected ally!"

"Ah, is it so? Who is it?"

"A pirate." Now it was said. James wished the ground would open up and swallow him for his foolishness- he really thought he had left that behind twenty years ago.

"Hm." For several unnerving minutes Wellington just puffed on his pipe before he nodded thoughtfully. "Well then, there had always been privateers fighting for the glory of the Crown, good men like Sir Henry Morgan."

James remembered something Jack had said about Morgan. _'He had killed more people in one day than I in my entire life yet he was called 'Sir' and I'm called pirate.' _

"No, Sir, he is not a privateer. He's a pirate- but a good man."

"Commodore, you've made me really curious. I always thought you hated all pirates from the bottom of your heart and now I learn you have at least one friend amongst them. So who is this ominous guy?"

"Well, to be precisely, I wouldn't go so far to call him a friend…"

"His name!" Wellington barked since his patience was waning; he liked to hear facts and no long explanations about things that didn't matter. "Just tell me his name, Commodore."

"Jack Sparrow."

"**Captain** Jack Sparrow?"

"Aye, Sir." James replied abashed. _I knew it had been a stupid idea. I'm glad if Lord Wellington does not insists to send me straight away to the military trial in London for conspiring with pirates, for high treason._ But instead of doing anything like that the governor just threw back his head and laughed heartily.

"My oh my, you really surprise me, James Norrington. God bless the admiralty in London for sending you here! You know the legendary, infamous pirate who had managed to sack Nassau port without firing a single shot and escaped from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company? So there is still hope. Fortune is back on our side."

James looked at the governor in bewilderment, not trusting his ears. Apparently he didn't have to face a military trial but he didn't know why. Then Wellington frowned and his heart sank again.

"Why did he, the unwavering scallywag Jack Sparrow is known to be, consent to help us? What is his profit in it?"

"Shardul has captured his… um, wife and since he's very fond of her he'd probably move heaven and hell to get her back, even allying with the Royal Navy."

"I see." Wellington thoughtfully puffed on his pipe again, blowing rings of smoke in the air. "So he is determined- but is he also trustworthy, Commodore? I feel tempted to give him a letter of marque…"

"No. I mean… I think he's quite stubborn and far too proud to accept a letter of marque as it's against his very own, odd sense of honour."

"Hm…" Though the air in his office was heavily clouded with smoke by now, Governor Wellington filled his pipe with a new load of tobacco and lit it, coughing a little. Then he looked intensely at the Commodore. "One last word, James- do you, personally, trust him?"

What should he say now? He didn't even know Jack's plan- if the pirate had a concrete plan at all, which he doubted. But on the other hand Jack was a hard man to predict, a man who had managed to fool him man times before. He loved to pretend being a drunkard, a clown, only to distract others from taking him seriously and then he'd come up with something absolutely erratic, unusual. Jack Sparrow was definitely the most amazing person he'd ever met- but did he really trust him? It was time to make up his mind, to come to a decision. And since Wellington didn't seem to mind his friendship with a pirate he could as well admit it. Did he trust Jack? Well, he wouldn't be here if he didn't and that's what he answered.

"Good. I believe it's worth taking the risk then so I give you my blessings for your adventurous mission." Wellington dismissed the commodore with a simple gesture but when James Norrington had almost reached the door he added almost inaudible. "Please, bring me back my niece, that dear child, no matter how much it costs."

The next morning a fleet of seven well armed ships left the harbour of Madras. Much too late for Jack's taste though he knew that good things always took time- time he didn't have to waste concerning Rowan. And yet he had no idea of the hell she was really going through because of him, to spare him.

author's note: By the way, I like reviews.


	6. the Devil's playground

I'm a nervous wreck, I lived on coffee, cigarettes and wine, and I hardly slept. This is probably the most intense piece I've ever written.

**WARNING **this chapter contains adult material. There is sex, violence, rape. If you take offence in any of that **don't read any further.**

If you read it, reviews are very much appreciated. I also can live with flames, but not with silence. And now I want to sleep.

Thanks to ellenar for editing. Big virtual hug- you're the best.

Chapter 6- the Devil's Playground

_Don't look back…_Rowan feared that if she did he would see something in her face, he would recognize her involuntarily looking out for someone, a dear face, hope. But there was no hope, at least not now. She had to go with Shardul and not turn around or she would endanger Jack. He must not know about Jack. He should believe she was here on her own. So she went with him, even allowed him to wrap his arm possessively around her waist. She hated his touch; it sent icy cold shivers down her spine. She also knew that Jack wouldn't understand, that he'd probably feel hurt. However, Shardul would hurt him much more if he found out about them. So she put on an indifferent face, hiding all her feelings. Hiding her fear. She wasn't an anxious woman but she knew Shardul, knew of what he was capable of.

"Mylady," he said mockingly as he offered her to take seat in his howdah, his eyes cold and yet filled with dark, ill-fated lust; he had never concealed his lust for her. Rowan sent a quick prayer to whoever was listing and sat down. The curtains were closed. Then the elephant rose, swaying heavily.

Suddenly there was a turmoil outside; someone had spotted Marris. Shardul flashed her a malicious smile and put up a prize on his head, adding, "I want him alive."

Rowan was glad she was sitting since her legs were shaking and her knees had turned to jelly, nevertheless she managed to keep her faked indifference. But in her head the worries increased at high speed. _What if Marris does not escape Shardul's henchmen? What if they catch him? What will they do to him? No, don't even **try** to imagine… it simply must not happen or all is lost. I can't bear to se him suffer, tormented, wishing to die but **he** won't let him die. He knows to keep people alive in order to torture them more and more…_

"By the way, dear Rowan, do you still have that pretty little lamp I sent you?" Shardul asked casually.

Now she felt really sick. He was referring to a lampshade that had found its way to her a year after the dark ceremony at the crematorium ground; it had been a lampshade made of human skin. She had known it had been sent by Shardul and Santiago had known it too, so they had packed their bags once again, hoping to cover over their trails by heading to another port, another country… she should have never come back to Asia. But she had thought that the dust had settled by now. Well, actually she hadn't wasted much thought about Shardul at all until her past had caught up with her today.

"It didn't fit with my other stuff." She replied coolly.

"What a pity. Manas has always been so fond of you."

_Manas. The gentle priest of Kali. He warned me when the blood sacrifices started, he saw the rise of an unholy death cult that had nothing to do with Kali. He was right. That's why Shardul killed him, probably skinned him alive…Oh please don't let them catch Marris… And why the hell did I never tell Jack about Shardul? What if he completely misunderstood the scene in front of the tavern? What if… no, not Jack. Jack will come and save me. _

Rowan clung to her only hope while Shardul told her in detail what he would do to Marris once his henchmen had captured him and all the time he sounded as if he was talking about the fine weather in Ceylon. She didn't listen. It was better not to listen or her stomach would cringe. How could someone enjoy so much to see others suffer? He had a truly sick, perverted mind and he was definitely mad, which was an ill-fated combination. Maybe it had not been such a wise idea to follow him without a fight. Maybe it would have been better to die. But she knew as well he would not have let that happen. He still wanted her.

The elephant swayed again and Rowan was thrown against Shardul who immediately grabbed her in a vice-like grip. He looked at her with cold lust, licking his lips. His eyes held a promise she didn't like at all.

"Later, my dear."

She couldn't suppress a reluctant shudder, wishing he would let go of her. But his grip only tightened more and then he pressed his mouth on hers. He didn't kiss her though, he just bit her so hard she tasted blood on her lips.

"I'm sure we'll have a great time."

Rowan doubted that. He might- she definitely would not. Nevertheless she was willing to sacrifice herself for Jack and all the others. Better to let him have her way with her than to see her lover, her friends, die in the cruellest way possible just because they cared for her. It would be unpleasant but not unbearable… so she thought then. She even allowed herself to smile a little when she heard that Shardul's men had not managed to capture Marris and that he had apparently fallen off a cliff didn't bother her at all. He could swim like a seal, he would make his way to Jack and tell him everything, and then Jack would come for her rescue…

BANG! Her head seemed to explode when Shardul struck the smile from her face with the back of his hand.

"Don't even dare to dream this insignificant little weasel could boldly enter my realm and take you away from me." He headed for her throat, his hands pressing slightly enough not to throttle her only as tightly as it was needed to warn her, to underline the meaning of his next words. "You're mine now."

Then he tossed her away and left it to his devoted servants to take her to the boats that lay in wait here, at a desolated beach. After recovering from the shock of that assault, Rowan noticed for the first time that she wasn't the only prisoner- there were also three young Dutch girls. Panic-struck they clung to each others hands for support, awaiting their fate frightened, without any hope. There simply was no hope here, only despair, and the dark long-tail boats with repulsive demonic faces as figureheads didn't look encouraging either. Hope faded even more when they were forced to board these boats, sailing towards an unknown future. And that was only the beginning…

After a while the boats reached the shore of an island. Rowan could make out the sound of waves crashing on rocks, but she was given no time to take a look at her surrounding. Instead, she received a hard shove in the ribs to make her hurry. Shardul's demonic masked guards escorted the women through dim, scarcely lit corridors cut in deep stone. Wherever they were, that place was cold and damp. It must have been quite pleasant in former days though, as she could still see some fading signs of forgotten glory. A carpet on the wall here, torn and filthy, a pretty silver chandelier without candles there. Now the place reminded her of the palace in Madras after the old Maharaja's violent death. Barricaded windows, no sunshine, hardly any light at all. And the barren walls breathed out damnation, despair. She shivered involuntarily. Hell wouldn't look worse but it was probably warmer there. Somehow it dawned on her that she had gotten herself in a really miserable situation.

That feeling increased when she was tossed into a room, apparently the harem. But it wasn't the Arabian Nights version of a harem one would imagine. There were no women reclining languidly on thick cushions, no musicians playing sensual tunes, no erotic dance nor oriental scents. It was rather a parody of that.

The room was large to hold a great amount of women and there were many indeed, from every nationality in the world. Though they all looked different they had one thing in common and that was the terrified expression in their eyes. There were also some boys but only a few. They must have been young and pretty once before they had come here and their childhood had ended abruptly. Now they were broken in body and soul.

Depression filled the air as well as opium smoke, the only escape from a reality too cruel to endure. Rowan had never seen a place where there was so little hope. A windowless room with no chance to ever catch the sight of the sun, to feel the wind on your face. It was a hopeless life between dead plants in marble flowerpots and dirty, worn down couches.

"Find yourself a place." The fat chief guard of the harem said with little sympathy in his voice as he pointed to the couches. "There are always some spare ones. People come and go, some die…"

He was a eunuch like all the other guards in here, guards with blank faces since they knew the meaning of horror, they had experienced it themselves. Nevertheless they were loyal to their master- or maybe they were too scared of dying.

Since there was little else to do Rowan sat down on an empty couch and surveyed her surroundings. The other women didn't seem to bother about her, they didn't even look up. Everyone was too occupied with her own misery. A young woman, almost a girl, sat on the bare floor, rocking to and fro, whimpering, clutching on to her rosary. She was most definitely gone mad with despair but no one cared for her either. This was a place for fears, not for friendships.

There were dark stains on the couch. Rowan didn't want to know what that was… s_ome die…_Then she noticed some women whispering but it took her a while to grasp they were making bets on how long it would take until the master would summon her, and the master's attention was feared very much here. They were also making bets upon her survival… _Oh bloody hell, what have I landed myself?_ _But there had been no other way so I'll pay for it, sooner or later._

She hadn't expected it to be quite so soon however…

It was not possible to tell how much time had passed in a place without any daylight, it could have been hours or just a few minutes when one of the demon masked soldiers appeared at the gates of the harem, his heavy footsteps echoing uncanny and fateful in the bare stone corridor. The women began to stir nervously as they knew what would happen next. It would be announced which of them the master had chosen to become his playmate tonight.

"The Master has made his choice. He wants the red head."

It was unmistakably clear who was tonight's meat and Rowan knew it too. It was also clear to her that there was no sense in disobeying or resisting the order since Shardul didn't tolerate disobedience. What he wanted he would get- and she had known what he wanted when she had agreed to go with him. After all one unpleasant night was only a small sacrifice in comparison to what he would have done to Jack if he'd caught him unawares of the grave danger he was in… unawares because of her, because she hadn't told him. It was all her own mistake.

She rose without resistance, without showing fear although she was quite nervous indeed. Some of the women whispered behind her back but she couldn't hear what they were saying, probably they were just glad that they had been spared this time.

A group of four soldiers led Rowan to Shardul's quarters. There was no escape. Even if she could overwhelm all four of them- very unlikely- she would not be able to get out of this windowless pit of despair. Yet thinking of ways to escape helped her to soothe her growing feeling of unease. She was almost calm when the door was finally opened for her- but then no longer. Her mouth went dry with fear.

The room was warm, that at least. A fire was burning in the chimney and the light of many candles illuminated the room to reveal a bizarre, horrifying scenery. She saw various instruments used for flagellation, all well tended. The leather of the whips was oiled, shackles were polished until they gleamed threateningly in the flickering candlelight. There were rings and chains on the walls, an iron cage in one corner and there were also many other things Rowan didn't even know the names of. She didn't doubt their use was anything but pleasant though. All in all, this room looked like the private torture chamber of a perverted madman.

"You like what you see?"

Rowan jumped edgily at the sound of his voice for she hadn't heard him approaching. Suddenly he was there, right behind her, his breath hot on her neck. It made her shudder.

He roughly turned her around so that she had to face him, the expression of twisted lust in his eyes. "You will like it, _laJjika_. Now take off your clothes."

He had called her _laJjika_- whore- for that's what she was to him. His whore. She had expected that and thought she had been prepared for it. But that was before she had seen this room, his private torture chamber. Things could only get worse.

He struck her hard across the face with the back of his hand when she didn't obey his order as promptly as he wished. For the second time today she saw stars and her already split lip started bleeding again. Nevertheless she shot him a defiant look.

"Don't be so rash. Ye'll get what ye want…"

"Oh, I will!" He grabbed a good fistful of her hair and jerked her on her knees, just in front of his feet. "I know what you're good at, _laJjika_. I saw you with my brother, many times when you thought you were undisturbed. I saw the things you did to him with that greedy mouth of yours, your naughty tongue."

Her insides cringed and a wave of nausea floated through her stomach as he unbuttoned his pants. _Please, can't he just simply rape me and spare me this?_

But he didn't spare her, either of that or of all the other things his sick mind told him to do and there was more, much more to come. Most of it was painful and the rest was humiliating. She didn't know how long it lasted, too long in any case. Sometime she just lost track of time, everything blurred in a crimson vision of pain and terror. He couldn't break her though. He tried but failed. Jack would come to save her, and she clung to that.

Rowan woke up, lying coiled on the couch in the harem and immediately her memory of the previous night- day- whatever- came floating back. She had hoped it had only been a nightmare but her whole body ached, reminding her of the bitter reality. She felt sore. It was useless to try and locate where the pain exactly came from because it came from everywhere. Her head was about to explode, every inch of her skin stung, maltreated with the whip and beating, shackles… daggers… _What damage had he done to me? Daggers in his hands, cold gleaming metal, cold on my skin…I flinched and it aroused him, it aroused him to see the horror in my eyes, and then…a cut…a very slight cut, not deep but deep enough to make blood drip… _

She felt something cool on her head, water dropped on her face. Someone muttered something unintelligible to her, soothing, like speaking to a child. She stiffened, lying in wait, knowing there wasn't any sympathy or any tender gestures to be expected here. Here, there was only pain, abuse and humiliation. She grabbed the hand forcefully, twisted it and sat up with a start. She yelped with pain that shot through her lower regions but so did the woman, only for a different reason

"Ouch! Let go of me! I'm only trying to help you!" She screamed, and when Rowan let go of her, she added calmly again. "Your wounds have to be cared for."

"Are ye a doctor or what?"

"No, I'm just a woman," the woman laughed bitterly. She was about Rowan's age and quite pretty, with aristocratic features, strawberry hair and bright blue eyes, eyes that hadn't completely lost their sparkle to desperation and despair. Yet there was a good bit of bitterness in her voice, "and as you may know, women studying is frowned upon, I am, of course, not a doctor. But since it is appropriate for a woman to be involved in charity, I often assisted the nuns at the cloister where I once lived. I know about herbs…" She shrugged. "Alas, there are no herbs in this place, only hot water and opium."

Rowan lay down again. "Is there much damage done?" She asked then, trying to sound indifferent but… _the crack of the whip, the gleaming daggers…helplessness. "Scream if you want, no one will hear you. But you like it, laJjika- don't you? Soon, I promise, I'll have you begging for more." And in the end I did everything he wanted, I screamed, I begged, I cried…too exhausted to hold back my tears…_

"I know it sounds cynical but he is actually very skilled in his… um, perverted ways. He wants to dominate, cause pain and terror, but usually he is careful enough not to maim his concubines, especially not his favourites " The woman bit her lips and looked away, avoiding Rowan's gaze. "I thought you knew that because… well, they say you came here voluntarily, at your own free will."

"The hell I did. Damned, I'm no…" She broke off, feeling miserable. _I'm not naïve, I should have expected that. I knew there are people who like to dominate and get aroused by causing pain while others are submissive, seeking pleasure in pain… but not I. I like it rough sometimes, with Jack… Oh Jack, what have I done to us? Maybe I sacrificed too much…_

"Sh, sh, don't worry. You will heal perfectly well. He always gives his concubines time to recover before requesting them again. Sometimes it takes days, sometimes weeks, sometimes he forgets- not you though, I fear. Your hair is much too flashy to ever be forgotten. But well, usually he prefers younger women, virgins. He believes the blood of virgins grants him potency and immortality…"

"And potent he really is." Rowan groaned dryly. She propped herself up on one elbow and scrutinized the other woman. "How about you, Lady? You're not that young either nor do I believe you came here as a virgin. So how did such a fine lady get in the hands of Shardul? Who are you? A baroness? A duchess?"

"My name's Catherine and my rank is of no importance. What makes you think I'm a noblewoman anyway?"

"Hard working women usually have no time for charity." She hadn't intended the words to sound as sharp as they did so she muttered an apology. Noblewoman or not, Catherine had treated her with great kindness.

"Rest now. You had a hard time and you will need all your strength to survive in here." Catherine said tolerantly.

"I don't intend to stay very long."

"Ha, none of us did. But actually I had expected you to be wiser than the naïve young girls who still believe a prince on a white horse will rush to their rescue."

"Not a prince but a pirate and instead of riding a white horse he sails a black ship." Rowan said unintentionally, it just slipped out of her mouth. She could have bitten her tongue for being so unthinkingly foolish. There was no one to trust here. But fortunately Catherine didn't take her seriously, perhaps she explained it as the fantasy of one who was slowly losing her mind. Should it be, she didn't give a damn. All she wanted was to sleep and forget.

Alas, sleep refused to come. It was too cold in here, the walls breathed out the dampness of old wet stone and the thin blanket, more a sheet, didn't warm her either. And there was still this scent, _his_ scent, lingering on her; everything reeked with his repulsive smell of depraved lust. Her insides convulsed with disgust, she felt nauseous… _pain and torment hadn't been the worst part, the worst part was him turning gentle and my body, wet with sweat, tears, blood and- ah, whatever, craving a gentle touch, reacting to it. For the first time I really- begged him to stop, feeling so embarrassed… humiliated…aroused. He just laughed, cold and cruel, and continued. I didn't want it to happen but my body betrayed me…his hands provoked it… again, the sound of flesh bumping against flesh as he took me from behind, his triumphantly laughter in my ear when he emptied himself inside me, still feeling my climax. I cried then, so ashamed, hating myself…He licked the tears from my face. "You love me, laJjika, isn't it so? Tell me you love me, my favourite whore." His hands came around my neck, throttling, forcing me to say it. But not that, no, never…_ She had to vomit but only bitter-tasting bile came out. When had she eaten last? Not here… sometime, in another world.

Nevertheless, when Catherine came hurrying back to her side, worriedly asking if she was alright- _damned, do I look alright? Is there anything alright in here?_- it wasn't food she plead for but a bath. She had the urgent need to scrub her skin until it was clean of Shardul's scent, his touch...

Catherine shook her head. A bath was a rare privilege only given to the master's favourites, a privilege like many others. It was then that Rowan learned about the hierarchy of the harem.

The master's attention was feared and no one longed for it, except perhaps the twins, two tall, shorthaired Negro women with skin like gleaming ebony and bodies as lissom as gazelles. It was said they were trained to endure pain, even found pleasure in it. Two submissive servants, the master's favourites, and the uncrowned queens of the harem. In their following were only a very few, selected women- mostly young girls who would never dispute nor envy their position, for they were both very jealous. They used the girls as their personal maids, reluctantly sharing their surplus of food, soap or other things with them.

Then there was Catherine, a noblewoman with some skills in healing. She had gained her position not by pleasing Shardul's ill-fated sexual fantasies but by keeping his playmates alive, which was- somehow- a doubtful task; she admitted herself. Nevertheless she fulfilled her duty without complaining since it was her way to stay alive, and, needless to say, she had seen many die in her months of imprisonment.

"How did ye get here?" Rowan asked again, this time more curious. Somehow she had begun to like the noblewoman although she was still far from trusting her.

Catherine told her. She had come from England, glad to be able to escape her possessive but uncaring husband for while, accompanying her niece to Madras, where the girl should be married to a captain of the East India Company. Then she sighed.

"But no marriage took place. They overwhelmed us on our way to the Governor's house, Christine, her best friend Abigail- the Governor's niece- and I. I give credit to Captain Thornton that he immediately set sails to rescue his fiancé, but unfortunately he failed. His ship sunk in cannon fire…"

"Thornton? Captain Richard Thornton?" Rowan interjected thoughtfully.

"Yes. Did you know him?"

"Well, knowing him is probably saying too much but- let's put it this way- I met his acquaintance once… you could also say we commandeered his ship."

Suddenly Rowan's words about the pirate and his black ship made perfect sense to Catherine, she had heard Captain Thornton telling the story of the most unusual pirate attack. She should have known that Rowan was the female pirate the same moment she first saw her, there weren't many people with such an unusual hair colour as described by Thornton.

"You're a pirate."

"Aye. At least you know now I'm not a whore, craving for Shardul's attention. But tell me, what happened to yer niece?"

"She died." Catherine whispered, wiping away a tear. "Actually, they committed suicide, she and Abigail. They couldn't live with the shame… you know, they were raised in the belief that virginity was their most precious item and after losing it in a place like this… "

"I'm sorry." Rowan said, actually meaning it since she liked Catherine. After all, she had distracted her a bit from her own miserable situation. Until the chief guard came up to her.

"You come."

Rowan was frozen with shock for a moment. Did Shardul send for her again, already? No, it wasn't the same guard that had pronounced the 'chosen one' yesterday, it was just the fat chief eunuch. Also, the women weren't nervous. Actually the atmosphere in the harem was quite relaxed today and she even felt a wave of pity for her when she painfully got to her feet. Probably all of them had had the same experience.

Her body still hurt so much it seemed impossible to walk, nevertheless she managed, clenching her teeth, slowly taking step after step. She was so focussed on fighting back the throbbing ache, so busy keeping her head held high with dignity that she didn't notice the change of mood. Pity faded and was replaced with disdain when the chief eunuch led her to a niche in the wall, a small chamber separated from the harem by a curtain. It contained a plain but clean bed with pillows and a blanket as well as a little table.

"'Tis your room now." He declared. At his sign another eunuch appeared, carrying a tray with food and candle that he put on the table. "Women come and go, some die."

_And apparently the last one who slept here had died_, Rowan thought with bitter cynicism while her eyes gazed around. It was also apparent that she had become one of the privileged. Though the room was not particularly comfortable it granted her at least a bit of privacy therefore it was definitely a luxury compared to the big hall, and the food looked much better than what had been served earlier on- a thin rice soup with greasy meat; she had tried a spoonful and immediately thrown up again. Yet, the honour of being one of the Shardul's favourite whores now was a doubtful honour and just because it was so she decided to make the best of the situation.

"I want to take a bath." She told the eunuchs, since she had seen a tub in one of the niches.

The fat chief shook his head. "The Master has given no order…"

"Ah, and what will Master say if hears you denied his favourite a reasonable request?" She snapped.

The eunuch considered this and a little later Rowan sat up to the neck in a tub filled with warm, almost hot water. First, it wasn't as much pleasure as she had dreamed it would be and she had quickly given up the idea of scrubbing her skin since the contact of her many cuts and bruises with hot water was painful enough, no need to increase that. But after the first wave of stinging pain had ceased she closed her eyes and tried to relax, to forget...

All of a sudden there were hands on her shoulders and her head was pushed under water for a few seconds. A warning, not an attempt to kill her. When she was allowed to submerge again, her soaking wet hair falling in her face, she saw two dark shapes. The Negro twins. One of them leant threateningly at the entry of the bathroom niche.

"Ta, I wanted to wash my hair anyway." Rowan gasped.

"You, red head. Don't dare to contest our position. We're the Master's favourites." With that the Negro turned on her heels and left, her twin sister following in her wake.

"Bloody nymphomaniac fools of masochists ye are!" Rowan shouted after them, then she sat back with a sigh. _As if I had chosen to become Shardul's favourite plaything…and I'm definitely not proud of it._

A day or two passed without anything spectacular happening except that Rowan had to admit Catherine was right; her wounds healed indeed and apparently without leaving any scars. She stayed in her chamber most of the time, sleeping, dozing, not interested in any hierarchical struggle and besides, she didn't know what to talk about with the women anyway. The world of the harem was a completely strange one for her since she had never spent much time with other women. She missed her crew, her ship, the feeling of wind on her face. She missed Jack. He was the only straw she could clutch to in these endless hours of dim twilight, he would come and save her.

There was a particular time each day when a wave of terrified restlessness passed through the room until the master's playmate was pronounced, then everybody breathed with relief for not being the chosen one. Rowan too. Here she learned the meaning of fear that made her stomach knot with terror.

Two days after her first encounter with Shardul the chief eunuch came to her and handed her a plain cut garb made of very thin, transparent fabric.

"Put it on. Master wants you to wear it. Master is having a party tonight and you will attend it." He said matter-of-factly and as usual with little sympathy; he simply served and obeyed.

The dress reached scarcely to Rowan's knees and didn't cover much otherwise; she felt naked. But worse was the leather necklace with blunt spikes on both sides, like a dog collar. And like a dog she was led on a leash through the dark corridors of Kalpitiya. The leering glances and lewd remarks of the soldiers didn't improve the situation. It also didn't improve her situation much that they weren't heading for Shardul's private torture chamber today.

He greeted her with a sharp jerk at the leash that brought her to her knees. "That's your place, _laJjika_. Never forget that." Then he made her crawl the last yards to a large hall, the leash tight in his hands.

The first thing Rowan saw when they entered the hall was a giant statue of Nirrti, horrible to look at. A shiver ran down her spine. Shardul noticed that and laughed. He dragged her towards the statue where on a platform three chairs stood. The men gathered in the hall were cheering, and there were many of them, all rough, rude guys. The air reeked of their unwashed bodies.

Shardul sat down on the middle chair and made Rowan curl at his feet. It was humiliating. She was nearly naked and exposed to a motley gang of rogues that licked their lips at the sight of flesh. It got even more humiliating when Shardul's guests of honour arrived. One was the King of Kandy and the other an Indian Warlord. Shardul forced her to get up so that his dear friends could have a better look at her, all the time praising her merits as a whore.

KingWimeladharmsuriya eyed her up and down, then pinched her nipples fiercely. "Too thin for my taste."

"Ah, but she bears more than others. And she likes it," Shardul pushed a cold hand between her tights, penetrating her with his fingers, "don't you, _laJjika_?"

Rowan winced with unexpected pain, but then she was tossed back to the floor and the three men attended to other topics. Tears burned in her eyes, bitter tears of shame she just she couldn't shed now, no matter how humiliated she felt. She had to get a grip on herself, forget her misery, the cold creeping through her bones.

Dinner was served. Shardul fed her like he would feed a dog, dropping whatever he thought suitable for her. It wasn't exactly what she would have chosen but she had little choice. She had to eat or she would feel the blunt spikes of the collar pressing into her skin again; he was in control and she was nothing more than his slave, his whore.

After dinner things got worse. 'Dessert' was brought- the three Dutch girls that had been captured the same day as Rowan. The guests of honour were graciously granted the right of deflowering them, so they did, unceremoniously shoving away the plates and raping them on the table, where everyone could see it and praise their potency. Rowan would never forget their screams, their cries, the whimpering sound like a mortally wounded animal. However, the dear guests were mighty pleased and satisfied when they buttoned their pants again so they decided to share their pleasure with their following. The poor girls were raped to death and beyond. They were treated like meat because a human life didn't matter here.

"See, and learn." Shardul told her with a jerk at the leash. "One day you will beg for the pleasure of pain, you will beg me to take you hard and brutally, to rip you apart, and then you will tell me you love me- or I will throw you to the hungry crowd. Not tonight though. Tonight I need a pure virgin, still untouched just to be depraved."

Rowan was still shaking all over when the guards delivered her at the harem.

Every day she feared Shardul would request for her and every day he did, although she wasn't led to his torture chamber again. Instead he stimulated his appetite for perversion by humiliating her in front of his devotees, groping her, threatening her. Then he would send her away and work ravage on one of his other concubines, partly with a devastating result. Apparently he had forgotten not to maim them.

The women blamed Rowan. She had never been liked, she had been mistrusted and disdained but now she was openly hated. Even Catherine avoided her after one girl died of internal injuries and the face of another had been cut beyond recognition. Rumours spread that they couldn't satisfy the master like Rowan did, his red haired whore. It didn't take long and they accused her of sorcery, of bewitching the master.

"Daft brats. If I could practice witchcraft I would make his balls shrink and his cock rot." She hissed but apparently there was no reasoning with the girls. They still believed Rowan came here at her own free will.

Catherine knew the truth or at least she remembered again what Rowan had told her the first night. She didn't believe in all this talk about sorcery but she didn't know either whether she could trust Rowan because there were still many open questions. Besides, trust was an unknown word in the harem anyway.

However, Catherine was a curious woman and she had to find out, so she visited Rowan in her private chamber.

"I was wondering- since you deny you came voluntarily- how did you get here?" She asked bluntly.

"Shardul picked me up in the streets of Colombo and took me to his harem." Rowan replied casually without even looking up, she simply stayed lying on her bed and continued to stare at the ceiling.

"Shardul?"

"Oh, please forgive me, I should have called him **Master**, of course."

"You know his name?"

"Aye, I know him." Rowan paused before adding cynically. "Now, doesn't that fit perfectly to the idea you have of me already? I know him and yet I went with him without resistance although I'm a pirate. You mean, I should have called for my pirate crew but instead I choose to accompany him because I craved becoming his whore so much." She sat up and faced Catherine. "Think of me what you want, Highness, I don't give a damn. Just leave me alone."

Catherine didn't do that. "Sometimes it is wiser to offer no resistance- especially when it comes up to save lives."

"Aye."

The noblewoman thought about that. Then she overcame her last doubts and stepped closer, sitting down next to Rowan. "You wanted to spare the lives of your crew by offering no resistance? My, what a courageous deed. Courageous, but nevertheless foolish. Or do you still believe in your pirate with the black ship to come and rescue you?"

"No. I don't believe in it. I know it."

"Then you're probably more foolish, or more naïve, than I ever thought. Don't you know that this place is called the Black Citadel of No Return? Guess why? No one has ever returned from here alive. This place is impregnable. Just what makes you believe your pirate could change that?"

"Because he is not just any pirate- he's Captain Jack Sparrow." Rowan said firmly but with a low voice. It was too risky speaking up her mind too loud at a place like this, a place of terror and despair.

A glimpse of hope flashed up in Catherine's blue eyes but faded as quickly. Of course she had heard stories of the infamous, legendary Captain Jack Sparrow, the man who had sacked Nassau port without firing a single shot and who vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company. On the other hand she had also heard he was a notorious womaniser- so why should he risk challenging the personification of the devil just to get Rowan Scarlett back? Sure, she was quite attractive with her flashy red hair but she wasn't a real beauty and after all, she was just a woman. He could find himself another one with less effort than attacking an impregnable fortress to no avail. Women were replaceable, Catherine had learned that here. Probably she had long been declared dead and replaced too. Even if Edward hadn't done that yet he wouldn't want her back, no after she had spent months in the harem of a depraved man. Edward would accuse her of adultery and file a petition for divorce, and the chances for a divorced woman were few in England. There was no hope.

"How long are you here now? Do you never wonder why your Jack keeps you waiting?"

"'Cause he's waiting for the opportune moment."

"But that may never come. Mayhap you just believe in a dream that will never come true. I hate to destroy your illusions, Rowan, but you must grasp now that there is no love in this world."

"Ah- who broke yer heart, Highness?"

Rowan had guessed right, only a broken heart refused to believe in love and the noblewoman blushed.

"That doesn't matter. I was young and naïve then, I believed that true love will overpower all rules of society and last forever. It was foolish. Of course the rules of society were stronger than our childish oats." She shrugged. "I got married to Edward and did what was expected; I gave birth to his sons, his heir."

Rowan noticed a certain frustration in Catherine's voice. "But he's still in yer heart, aye? Tell me about him. What kind of guy was he?"

Catherine sighed. "He was my childhood friend. He was well-educated, loved books and came from a good family. Unfortunately he was below my rank therefore it was inappropriate to consider marriage, our families saw to that… Actually, I do not wish to speak about him anymore. There simply is no place for love in this world."

Rowan didn't know what time it was when Shardul summoned her again, she only knew it was an unusual time and he had already chosen his playmates for tonight, the twins. She feared that that was not a good sign, that this time she wouldn't get by with just being groped in public. She was right. Her stomach knotted when the soldiers escorted her to his private torture chamber.

She was greeted with raging fury the moment she entered the room. His blow sent her to the floor.

"Who is Jack?"

He hit her again, before she had the chance to realize what was going on. Then he raped her with utmost brutality, yelling, "You're mine, mine, mine...", until he emptied himself inside her with a loud, bestial groan. He reached for her collar, the one she had to wear constantly, and jerked her head around so that she had to face him. She saw hatred, lust and madness mingling in his eyes, and she knew the worst was yet to come.

"Who is Jack?"

Rowan was too shocked to answer. It wasn't his violence that stunned her but his hot-tempered outburst of it. Usually he was much cooler in his cruelty, taking it slow, enjoying the effects of the pain he caused, revelling in fear and terror; he was also more patient. His next stroke split her lip. She was disgusted when he licked the blood off her lip and it was only then she felt the pain rushing in throbbing waves through her body. It was only then she partly came to her senses again, aware of what has happened, what he'd done to her. And she wondered how he had found out about Jack. She had only told Catherine, but Catherine surely hadn't given her away. Someone must have eavesdropped on their conversation…

"You're **my** whore, _laJjika,_ never forget that. No one can ever take you away from me." His proximity was a threat. He shoved his hand between her tights, rubbing roughly on her sore flesh. He took pride in her painful wincing, the small whimpering sound that escaped her lips. It aroused him. He thought of her mouth and wanted to feel it, so he took a fistful of her hair and forced her head in the desired direction. "Satisfy me. Give it your best."

That moment the loud thunder of a cannon roared, followed by the sound of many cannons that shook the walls of the fortress. Rowan could have wept with relief for she knew these cannons- the Pearl's cannons had their very own, distinctive sound.

With defiance she looked at Shardul. "You wanna know 'bout Jack? Well, here he comes."


	7. the mystery of Captain Jack Sparrow

Author's note: Warning- violence. And please don't call Greenpeace for killing a tiger- there was no protection of endangered species in 1695.

Reviews are always welcome.

chapter 7- the mystery of Captain Jack Sparrow

"Where is Captain Sparrow?" Norrington shouted as he climbed aboard the Black Pearl, irritated and looking for her captain. He should have never trusted a pirate and much less the infamous Jack Sparrow. Of course he would try to cheat him sooner or later, James had always known that, and yet it came as a surprise to him that it was already happening now. Still, it wasn't a real betrayal but just a slight deviation from the original plan, an unexpected tack had brought the Pearl into closer range to the fortress when she fired her cannons. This was not what they had agreed upon. Since **he** was the Naval officer, the one with military experience and strategic skills, it should have been **his** decision when to open fire. Also it had been agreed not to attack the fortress directly. The bombardment should only be a diversionary tactic to turn the eyes of Shardul's mercenaries away from Brody's attempt to disable the cannons in the harbour. But Captain Jack Sparrow didn't keep to their plan; he was up to something else and whatever that was he would carry through with it, stubbornly and much too full of himself as always. James wouldn't have given a damn though if the pirate had only risked his own life

"Where's Captain Sparrow?" He asked again and grabbed the sleeve of a pirate hurrying by. Unfortunately it was the mute one of all people, Mr. Cotton. Parrot ruffled up his feathers and squawked. "Sailing close to the wind!"

"Blast!" Bill Turner, who had overheard Parrot's words, froze in his tracks. He looked to the quarter deck where he had last seen Jack, bellowing orders, but apparently Mr Gibbs was in command of the Pearl now. It didn't surprise him. Jack Sparrow simply wasn't the man to sit back and wait until a Naval officer gave his okay for action, he preferred to chose his very own opportune moment.

"Damned, Jack, ye're such a mad, daft fool to believe ye can make it on yer own." Bill hissed as he scurried over to the longboats. As expected, one was missing. Immediately he tried to get another one ready.

James didn't know whether it was encouraging or alarming that there were also pirates who considered their eccentric captain as mad as he did but it also left him with a growing feeling of unease.

"What is he up to?"

Bill looked at the dark fortress, gloomily illuminated by cannon fire. "Take a guess, Commodore."

"He- no, he could not possibly have set off to rescue Rowan on his own? That would be daft," and therefore it was most likely true. Norrington sighed, then shot a worried glance in Bill's direction. The pirate was still struggling away with one of the longboats. "And what are you up to now, Mr Turner? I swear if you pirates think you can recklessly ignore my orders and therefore endanger the life of any honourable soldier serving His Majesty I feel obliged to…"

"Help me!" Bill barked, cutting him short.

For a moment James was too puzzled not to follow this order, so he did help the pirate to heave the longboat over the rail and launch it.

"Ye're right, Commodore, Jack ignores yer orders- did ye really believe he'd follow them just because ye're an officer? But the only life he'd ever endanger is his own, bloody daft fool that he is, and I won't let that happen, savvy? So, are ye with me or not?"

It seemed to James as if Jack had imprinted his madness on everyone around him because he didn't hesitate to follow Bill. The pirate grabbed the oars and started pulling but after a while he stopped, impatiently staring at his unexpected partner in crime.

"Mate, yer not with the Royal Navy now. Here there are only pirates and yer rank doesn't matter so take the bloody oars and help me; it won't kill ye."

When it came down to determination father and son were very much alike but unlike Will, who always acted a tad too rash, Bill usually kept calm. He rebuked James with a smile on his face and the Commodore swallowed his pride. It was hardly the right time to insist on propriety. A cannonball hit the surface next to their boat, splashing a fountain of water over them. James quickly picked up the second pair of oars.

"Well, I think we should see to it that we reach the shore." He ducked when another ball scarcely missed the boat. "I do wonder how Jack had made it ashore in this infernal cannon fire."

"Don't worry 'bout Jack, he always gets by."

James spared himself lying by claiming he was not worried about Jack. Instead he said. "Then what are we doing here at all?"

"Covering a friend just in case he might need some help. Now row, Commodore."

The impact of cannonballs ebbed when they reached some offshore rocks that protected the small beach of Kalpitiya. Neither of them spoke a word since they had to concentrate on manoeuvring their boat though the tight passage between rocks, which proved to be a tricky task at night. Again James wondered how Jack had managed that and that he had actually managed it became obvious a little later. At the beach he spotted a longboat, pulled ashore.

"At least he's a good sailor," he murmured, a fact he already had had to admit earlier on, on their voyage from Madras to the Palk Strait.

"Aye." Bill agreed- but if he had added something about Jack being a good man, James would have felt obliged to throttle him. He had heard that once too often.

Then he looked around. Everything here was exactly the way Brody had described it. The tiny beach, the scrub growing at the feet of the steep cliff that made the island of Kalpitiya. A good part of the scrub was trampled or chopped down by now, marking a path that would most definitely lead to the hidden cave. Apparently Jack hadn't cared to leave no traces. But whether this was a foolish or a cool and calculated manoeuvre James didn't know. He, however, preferred to unsheathe his sword when he approached the thorny bushes and headed towards the mouth of the cave.

"We could use a torch now," he stated as the darkness thickened around him. There was a hint of accusation in his voice but most of all he was angry with himself. It had been thoughtless of him to follow Bill Turner totally unprepared for he knew that any military operation had to be carefully planned and thought through with great care; it was never wise to plunge headlong into an uncertain adventure. Alas, this wasn't a military operation but a mad pirate's plan and he had become part of it. James sighed with frustration.

Suddenly he heard a catlike growl. Before he could even figure out what was going on the sound of a gun echoed through the cave and in the flash from the muzzle James saw a huge tiger dropping dead to the ground. He gasped as it dawned on him that Bill Turner had just saved his life. Once again his life had been saved by a pirate and he hoped that wouldn't become a habit with him.

"I believe thanks are in order."

Bill shrugged nonchalantly. "Ye would've done the same."

He was grateful for the darkness because it would be embarrassing if Turner saw him blush, he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. It was still hard to live with the shame, with the deeds he had done while being possessed. He had almost killed Bill Turner's son and yet the man had saved him. He felt so abashed.

Meanwhile Bill had found some torches at the foot of a staircase leading upwards. He lit them and handed one to the commodore before he briefly examined the dead tiger.

"Poor creature. They let him starve to guarantee his hunger for anyone who dared to enter the cave."

"Hunger?" James raised his torch to throw a look around and blanched with shock when he saw bones, human bones. "Oh my God, what happened to Jack?"

Bill followed his glance and laughed grimly. "I don't doubt yer worries, Commodore, but ye're a bit too rash in fearing the worst. No tiger, no matter how hungry it is, can devour his prey completely in less than an hour, leaving behind only neatly gnawed off bones." He stepped closer to the bones. "Besides, this was a woman."

"Good to know, Mr Turner." James said stiffly to conceal his relief that Jack Sparrow had not become tiger food. He wondered aloud. "But how did Jack escape the tiger?

"That, my friend, is one of the many mysteries of Captain Jack Sparrow." Bill replied, patting the Commodore's shoulder. "Guess he'd say, _'cause I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, mate._"

James couldn't help but chuckle. However, when he caught himself chuckling he quickly rebuked himself and became a dutiful officer of the Royal Navy again. He had a task to fulfil. There were still innocent British girls, which Shardul had captured, to be considered. He had to rescue them, that was why Governor Wellington had given his permission to this doubtful mission, that was what he was here for- and not, definitely not at all, to worry about an infamous scallywag who was so daft as to plunge headlong into danger, thinking he could manage everything on his own just because he believed in his own legend.

Whisking Bill's hand off his shoulders he straightened. "Well, Mr Turner, I think we should continue our way. There is no time to waste."

"Damned right, Commodore."

They started climbing up the staircase that would lead them into the fortress. The flickering fire of their torches sent ghostly patches of light and shadow across the old, bare stone walls cut into the rocks of Kalpitiya; walls that had maintained for centuries. It was cold and damp here, a musty scent hung heavily in the air. And there was danger lurking ahead.

"My, what a creepy place." Bill shuddered. Though he had just spoken what James was thinking it surprised him that a pirate would frankly confess his feelings of unease- he had thought that all pirates were tough guys and therefore immune to even noticing the unnerving atmosphere. "These walls breathe out hopelessness, disillusionment and despair… it sends a shiver down me spine."

"Yes, it is a very unpleasant place but we will not falter and-" his eyes grew wide. "Snakes!"

"Snakes?"

"Don't move, Turner. Be very, very careful. They're creeping out of a hole in the wall just above your head. Don't startle them. I think they're cobras, very venomous beast."

"How comes ye know 'bout snakes, Commodore?" Bill asked calmly. He stood there like a statue, only his jaws twitched nervously.

"I read a book bout the Asian flora and fauna before I came to Madras. I wanted to be informed."

"Ah., did they also say in that book how to get rid of cobras?" When James shook his head, he added. "Alright, mate. Since we have no time to waste I recommend ye throw yer torch at them, I duck, and then we both run. If I don't make it you go and help Jack."

James hesitated but the pirate seemed to be deadly serious about it. So he whispered a prayer and threw his torch. A moment later they were both rushing up the staircase, unharmed by snakes- and then stopped dead at a crunching sound that seemed to come from the rocks. First they thought the impact of a cannon ball had caused this but soon they noticed that the ground was moving, opening up in front of them.

"Jump!" Bill shouted and jump they did. Catching for breath they looked back. There was a hole in the ground and down in that hole some pointed stakes rose. It would be a nasty death to fall on them.

"For God's sake! I cannot believe that Jack managed to get by all these hidden dangers unharmed, I mean…"

"Hey, he's Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy. Don't wonder how he made it 'cause I still haven't figured that out myself. Probably he's just a lucky devil."

"The mysteries of Captain Jack Sparrow… well, well…" James sighed because that didn't explain a thing and he liked to have everything neat and reasonable. Unfortunately, things were never neat and reasonable with the infamous Captain Sparrow. It was foolish to even believe he could ever figure him out.

Finally they reached the top of the staircase and a closed door. Behind that door they heard men talking, most likely Shardul's guards.

"Well, me thinks we should just open that bloody door and give 'em a good beating. What d'ye say, Commodore?"

James gabbed his sword with determination, ready to inflict the wrath of the Royal Navy upon them when he noticed that Bill was not armed or- to be more precisely- he seemed not willing to make use of his weapon. He carried a beautiful sword, definitely forged by his son, but it was still in its sheath.

Bill followed the Commodore's quizzical glances with his eyes and smirked, indicating a quick stroke with the side of his hand. After all, he hadn't spent his time at the monastery to no avail; he had studied the basics of traditional Chinese medicine and for the harmony of body and soul he learned some Kung-Fu. Actually he was quite good at it or at least better than he would ever be at fencing. It was funny though that his son had such a talent with swords.

James gasped when he saw Bill move. Of course the pirate did not keep to the strategic tactic he had just explained to him. Instead he opened the door and within a minute he had knocked out the three guards. A kick here, a quick stroke there- his movements came very precisely as if he performed a well-studied choreography. And a very effective one.

"Mr Turner, you have done well but the next one we meet is mine," he said dryly.

"Don't worry, Commodore. Yer time to fulfil yer duties will surely come."

-

"Don't leave me. I'll be right back." Shardul stroke her cheek almost gently before he headed towards the door, leaving Rowan securely tied up. He was a Master of Bondage; he loved to see silent pleas in the helpless eyes of his playmates when they were completely at his mercy. It aroused him- yet her defiant gaze aroused him even more. He'd like to have his way with her now, to abuse her until her stubborn pride was broken and shattered into pieces. Unfortunately, the chief of his guard needed his advice concerning the attack on Kalpitiya. These feeble-minded, useless mercenaries didn't know how to strike back and he had to show them how to load a cannon. It annoyed him. And since it wasn't wise to annoy Shardul Chopra, the one responsible for disturbing him in his private playroom would pay for it; a very slow death would be granted.

Rowan could also tell a thing or two about annoying Shardul. It hadn't been wise to show defiance but she had been so fed up with playing the submissive victim that she hadn't thought about the consequences. Jack was coming and he would save her- she simply had failed to consider that it would take him some time to get from his ship and into the fortress.

After hearing about Jack, Shardul had become enraged. He vented his fury on her, hitting her hard and yelling that she was his, his alone, the mother of his unborn children. He was truly, utterly mad.

_"You're mine, laJjika, you know that. You're my brother's widow, you belong to my family. It's my right to claim you. Your lousy pirate lover can't change that fact." _

_"I was never properly married to Tyag." It was a feeble protest and he knew that, he'd been there, then, at the crematorium ground. He snarled with contemptuously joy, "Ah, but you were not disinclined to consummate the marriage if I remember it clearly…"_

_No need to fill me in with things long gone by but never forgotten. It was despair mingled with a hopeless feeling of loss that made me do this, my way of saying goodbye to the man I once loved. He would never understand that, not Shardul. He let his fingers run through my hair, sending shivers down my spine…his proximity is so appalling… I fought when he grabbed a fistful of hair in order to jerk me closer and tried to push him away. It was a mistake… a big mistake, because it was then he suddenly took notice of the tattooed ring on my finger. He cried out loud, immediately knowing its meaning and accusing me of betrayal. It was ridiculously but never laugh about a madman, you never know what his demented mind will think up next… the sound of cracking bones… it took me a moment to realize it were my bones but then the pain shot through my hand in hot burning waves… I knew what he was up to… he's gonna chop off my fingers just to get rid of that tattoo…No, please…_

_"Master, we have a problem."_

_Never had the voice of one of his devotees sounded more welcome than now. Not for Shardul though. He hated to leave me, didn't want to stop his evil doings. He wanted, lusted…_

_"Wait outside!" he barked._

_What happened next? Can't recall…my memories blurred in a vision of red haze…pain shooting through every limp… I can't move… leather bonds are cutting into my wrists, my ankles, my neck, cutting of my circulation. I can't move 'cause if I do I'll suffocate. What a cruel way to tie up someone… His voice was full of sarcasm when he said, "Don't leave me. I'll be right back."_

It was a threat disguised as a promise and that promise was kept; he came back soon. She had expected it, feared for it and yet longed for it because she couldn't control her shaking limbs any longer. Even the slightest move seemed to strangle her, to cut off her breath. It was a relief when he freed her from the bonds so she was almost willing to endure his groping hands on her body.

"Ah, _laJjika_, you're the perfect whore. You like what I do to you, don't you? Now give me your hand. It's just a quick cut. You're used to pain and pain I will give you. Then you will be begging for more. You will beg me to fuck you very hard and plant my seed into your womb. You will give birth to my son, my heir."

It was disgusting. Shardul licked blood and tears off her face while holding a sharp knife in his hands; a knife that was just waiting to come to its dreadful use and cut off her finger. But she wouldn't let that happen without resistance even if resistance meant death. Of course she failed. She never had had the slightest chance against him; he was so much stronger and she was weak, exhausted from enduring torments and rape. He simply knocked her out with a hard blow that made her see stars.

Then, suddenly in a splendid mood again, he let his hands run affectionately over the handles of his whips that he kept on velvet covered shelves.

"Naughty girl. You misbehaved and disobeyed, now beg for punishment," he said cheerfully as he chose the cat-'o- nine- tails, excited about the bloody streaks it would leave on her skin. "It's time for a little flogging, _laJjika_."

With a diabolical grin he cracked the whip; it was a sound he loved. However, the sound of whiplashes meeting naked skin he loved even more. The cries, painful screams and low whimpers of his victims were music to his ears, a wonderful symphony of torment.

"I want to hear you scream, _laJjika_. Arouse me with your screams."

"Sorry for interrupting here but that's not a nice way to treat a woman."

Shardul didn't believe his ears. Who dared to disturb him in his private play room and as well so boldly? He lowered the whip and turned around to face the intruder. It was, apparently, a pirate. An outlandish, eccentric looking pirate. How did he get here? He wondered if he was only surrounded by mindless fools who let a pirate stroll through his fortress without caring to stop him.

Meanwhile, Rowan was sobbing with relief- finally Jack had come.

Shardul shot her a glance from dangerously narrowed eyes. "Is he your prodigious lover? Did you spread your legs for that son of a bitch, that miserable joke of a pirate? I expected you to have more style than getting involved with such a scruffy _something_. But I'll teach you manners, you wanton whore! You belong to **my** family, you' re **my** property!"

Before he could raise his whip and continue with the flogging as if he didn't care about Jack's presence at all, the pirate gave a warning shot. Shardul just sneered scornfully, addressing Rowan.

"How pathetic. Did you notice that he just wasted his single shot? I think I will have a lot of fun with him when I castrate him and then skin him alive. His death will be very, very slow." He turned to Jack again. "Now, pirate, what did you expect? Did you think you could get away with disturbing me? Or did you think I would heroically duel over my whore?"

Jack stared at him with a calmness he didn't feel but no one could tell that from the expression of his face. His face was absolutely unfathomable; only a muscle in his jaw trembled a bit because it was hard for him to conceal his shock. He had thought he knew all about the blackest depths of the human soul, that he'd seen it all. He hadn't seen anything like this though, a well-equipped torture chamber for depraved lust and Rowan right in the middle of it, battered, bruised, abused. He should have believed in Marris' horror stories about Shardul. Yet, he wasn't unprepared either.

"Well, I might have wasted one shot but now I expect you to die." Jack said with a harsh voice that didn't sound like his own. He drew two more pistols and fired them unceremoniously. It wasn't his way to kill so cold-bloodedly; usually he avoided the killing and preferred to negotiate. But extreme situations required extreme measures.

Both shots hit Shardul fatally. The depraved pervert howled with surprise- and pain. He, who had loved so much to cause pain, now wailed like a little boy when pain struck him, and he dropped to the floor crying. Jack murmured ruthlessly, "Yer funeral. Ye should have never tried to mess with Captain Jack Sparrow."

He looked at Rowan, lost for words although he usually never was. What should he say anyway? Ask her if she was alright when she obviously wasn't? But before he could do anything she flung herself at Shardul, attacking- no, butchering- his body with a sharp knife. Perhaps he had deserved that- he definitely had- nevertheless Jack felt a wave of nausea welling up inside him as he saw her going berserk with long suppressed hatred. He had never seen her so despairing, so furious and seemingly blood-thirsty. He was stunned.

"Shh, shh. Stop it now, luv." Jack gathered her trembling body in his arms, whispering soothingly. "Come on, darling, gimme that knife. He's dead. You can't kill him more than once and he's definitely dead. Look what a mess you've made, all that blood."

Slowly she came to her senses. Rowan stared at her bloody hands, then at Shardul's massacred body. He would never ever rape her or anyone else again, she had cared for that thoroughly. But she felt no triumph when she saw the bloody mash that once had been his genitals; actually she felt quite sick and couldn't withhold the urge to vomit. Jack held her close, whisking away strays of hair from her face, stroking her gently.

"It's over, darling, it's over. Everything will be fine again, I'll care for you. Good ol' Jack's here for you."

She was shaking all over now so he took off his coat and wrapped it carefully around her shoulders. For a moment she cuddled up deeply in the coat; it still radiated Jack's body heat and his typical, familiar scent. Even at such a horrifying, ghastly place like this it felt comforting.

The sound of approaching footsteps startled her. With her good hand she grabbed one of three remaining, loaded pistols which Jack carried in his sash. Apparently he had been properly prepared for meeting Shardul, it had been wise to rely on the power of firearms, wise to keep him at distance and not let him come close. And whoever was approaching them now had to be kept at distance too. Better to shoot first and then ask questions. She aimed the pistol at the British Navy officer who entered the room with resolute steps- and then stopped dead in his tracks.

"Oh. My. God." He gasped as he took notice of the disgusting surroundings. "Jack, are you-"

Norrington was lucky that Jack had a quick wit or he would be dead by now. Swiftly the pirate purloined the pistol from Rowan's hand.

"No! No, no, no- you can't just shoot good ol' Jamie. The Commodore's our friend."

Rowan sighed with regret. "Is he? Since when?"

"Well, it is still a great surprise for me, too, Mad- ahem, Milady Scarlett, Captain..." James felt kind of stupid for searching for the proper form of address because she probably didn't give a damn about it anyway. And, to be honest, it didn't matter; not here. He should do his job and take in as much of the situation as he could since he would need that for his report. There was a large amount of blood spilled here, Jack and Rowan were both smeared with it. "Are either of you seriously wounded?" he asked worried.

Rowan just laughed sarcastically while Jack shook his head and pointed to Shardul. "It's all his blood- well, most of it."

James took a closer look at the brutally massacred corpse of Shardul Chopra and wished he hadn't done so because his blood seemed to freeze. "You did a thorough job, Captain Sparrow."

"Ah, don't praise me, I simply shot him. It was _Milady_ who made this mess."

Meanwhile Bill Turner had briefly examined Rowan. She was badly bruised and three of her fingers were broken but that all looked worse than it really was; her wounds would heal. What worried him more was her sanity. She had gone through hell but in spite of that she tried hard not to lose control. She was too cool and that was alarming since he could almost see how tense her nerves were. Probably she was still in a state of shock and would break down sooner or later, at least he hoped so. He had once seen her almost being devoured by numb grief, unfeeling and cold because she had restrained herself, had held back her tears for too long, and he never wanted to see her like that again. After all, there were already some dark stains on her soul.

"Jack, gimme yer bandana," Bill ignored the frown on his friend's face and explained tolerantly, "I wanna make a sling to keep Rowan's hand steady thus it'll hurt her less, savvy?" _And then we have to get her out of here, out of this fateful room. We had already stayed here much too long anyway. It's not good, _he added in thoughts.

James watched them with growing impatience; the cannon fire had increased and the walls of the fortress were shaken almost constantly now. He did not want to be buried in a nigh impregnable fortress that was nevertheless about to fall apart, apparently it was only a matter of time. And there were still there poor British girls to be considered… he noticed that he had erased the word 'innocent' from his vocabulary since it seemed to be inappropriate here. This place reeked with depraved sin, everything in here was simply the opposite of innocence.

Jack helped Rowan to her feet in a very protective manner that moved James in some way but when the pirate promised her to take her back home to the Black Pearl he just had to interfere.

"Jack Sparrow you have acquiesced to helping me free the other captives. Do you still stand by your word?"

"Did ye ever believe in the word of a pirate, Jamie?" Jack grinned when he saw the Commodore flinch, disappointment and mistrust clearly visible on his face. "Why, 'course I'll help ye, mate."

"I can show ye the way to the harem." Rowan offered matter-of-factly but actually she didn't consider many of the women to be worth of being saved at all. One or two perhaps… the very few who hadn't tried to make her miserable life here even more like hell.

"Luv, ye can scarcely stand on yer own two feet."

"I'm alright. I'll make it. You don't need to pamper me, savvy? I'm fine."

That was a blatant lie and everybody knew it, even Rowan herself. She clenched her teeth, bracing her good hand against the walls as she limped along the passageway that led to the harem. Walking was painful since every step sent another wave of throbbing ache through her lower regions.

After watching her for a minute or two, Jack had seen enough. He lifted her up in order to carry her and when she tried to protest he cut her short.

"No, darling, ye can't walk- or at least I'm not willing to watch this misery any longer. Just tell me the way we have to go and trust me that we'll get there. After all, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy."

"Now that you've mentioned it- tell me, how did the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow manage to get by all the hindrances on the way from the cave into the fortress?" James asked with curiosity.

"Hindrances? What hindrances? I entered the cave, walked up the staircase and saved me woman."

"What about the tiger, the snakes, the pit with the pointed stakes?"

"There were no snakes or pits with pointed stakes." Jack looked at the Commodore as if he was musing which of them was the mad one. "Ye either have a livid imagination or ye had a much more exciting way up the staircase than I had. I just walked in and killed the Tiger."

James couldn't believe that the pirate actually sounded a bit disappointed. "You killed Shardul..."

"Aye, I just said that. I killed him. Well, I know, it wasn't one of my most splendid deeds, no legends will grow around that…"

"Sparrow! I was referring to the tiger in the cave. You must have noticed it or- to be more precisely- the tiger must have noticed you. Good Lord, the beast was almost starving, it must have smelled you."

"There was a real tiger in the cave? I always wanted to have a tiger fur for me cabin. It looks so… so…"

Jack was still looking for the right word when Bill interjected helpfully.

"Shabby. It's cruel and despicable to kill a creature only to show off with a trophy."

The two pirates started to argue about the pros and cons of a tiger fur decoration aboard a pirate ship. To Rowan it was pleasant normality, a welcome distraction from this horrible place. She snuggled up into Jack's arms and for the first time in days, weeks, or no matter how long she had actually stayed here, she felt lovingly protected against the evil, the despair and the hopelessness these old stonewalls breathed out. And for the first time since she had came here she felt warm; Jack always radiated an incredible warmth as if his skin had absorbed and stored the Caribbean sun.

James could only shake his head, slightly enervated, as he led the way. Mayhap he had always been so keen to see all pirates swinging from the gallows because they were such a mystery to him.

No one stopped them on their way. They saw a few guards scurrying to and fro hither, busy with defending the fortress to no avail. Kalpitiya couldn't put up resistance to the cannons of the Royal Navy and two pirate vessels much longer. And what was more, Lieutenant Brody had succeeded in disabling the cannons in the harbour. Now he was invading the fortress with his gang of British soldiers and some swashbuckling pirates.

In the harem, however, none of these things had been noticed. The women heard the rumbling thunder of the cannons and it scared them. They had long given up hope that someone would come for their rescue so they didn't believe in it; they only feared the worst. They were surprised though when a British Navy officer entered the harem, shooing away the eunuchs with harsh words.

"In the name of His Royal Highness, King William III, I declare that all women held captive against their will, are to be released immediately." Commodore Norrington announced then.

"James?" Catherine approached him slowly, staring at him in bewilderment, and it actually took her a minute to recognise him. She had never seen him wearing a wig. "Oh my God. Is it really you, James?"

10


	8. Afthermath

Sorry that it's taken me so long to update but this chapter is quite long and real life got in the way too often. Anyway, here's the last chapter…

Chapter 8- Aftermath

"Catherine!" James was stunned about this unexpected meeting and he felt catapulted back in time for a moment. She still looked just like he remembered her. But he was not an adolescent dreamer anymore and she was a married noblewoman, so he got a grip on himself again. He was a Commodore of the Royal Navy and decent English gentlemen who knew the rules of propriety. He bowed courteously. "Lady Talbot, Countess, I beg your pardon for being so thoughtless to address you in such an unseemly familiar way. I was merely taken by surprise." He stiffened even more, hiding all emotions. "I'm sure your husband, the Earl of Shrewsbury, will be very pleased to hear about your rescue."

"Oh, Edward will definitely be overwhelmed- all the time he must have feared someone would come and ask for ransom. That would have been truly terrible," she said with a slight hint of sarcasm in her voice, "Besides, don't you think your courtesy is a tad out of place here, James? Or do you insist on being addressed with your title nowadays?"

"Of course not." He blushed in embarrassment but fact was that it didn't matter what he thought or wished. There were rules in society and these rules had proven to be stronger than him; he had had to learn that in the past.

Jack watched them in bewilderment. They acted like two strangers meeting for the first time although it was obvious that they knew each other from a past when the Commodore hadn't been a commodore- well, no one was born a stiff Navy officer, not even Norrington. It was also obvious that they were quite fond of each other. They tried to conceal it but only a blind man could misinterpret the way their eyes locked and Captain Jack Sparrow was anything but a blind man. Actually he considered himself a good observer so he came to the conclusion that Jamie must have found himself a girl once and then he'd messed it up somehow. Jack rolled his eyes. It was time to interfere before the curse of decorum could spoil it all.

He staggered up to them and sketched a bow. "Captain Jack Sparrow at yer service, fair lady. I happened to overhear yer conversation and I was wondering if I might be any help in asking for ransom."

Catherine chuckled, imagining how annoyed Edward would be. Jack noticed that she was really a pretty woman; her shrewd eyes were shining with wit, she had cute dimples when she smiled and her fair skin seemed to be predestined for freckles when exposed to the sun. He would love to see her freckles. James should be glad that he had stopped him from saying even more stupid things but instead he glared at him with disapproval.

"Sparrow!"

"Captain Sparrow. I've heard of you."

Jack elbowed the Commodore confidentially. "Heard that, mate? She's heard of me."

James took a step aside, showing even more displeasure. "The Countess has probably heard of your dubious reputation but that's nothing to be particularly proud of."

"Well, I'm familiar with all the stories that created the legend of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow but it seems you have topped them all by coming here today. There was so little hope and yet Rowan always believed that you would come- where is she anyway?"

"He didn't make it all on his own." James hissed, not accepting that a pirate took all the credit. He wanted to make clear that he had also played a very important part in this mission but Catherine had just spotted Rowan and didn't listen to him anymore. Nevertheless he continued. "I daresay that without the help of the Royal Navy he wouldn't be here."

"It was my plan though." Jack stated. Then he tolerantly patted the Commodore's shoulder. "Don't worry, mate. Yer time to impress yer pretty Countess will surely come sooner or later."

James wanted to tell him that Catherine wasn't _his_ Countess not that she ever will be since she had married Lord Edward Talbot, the Earl of Shrewsbury, almost twenty years ago but then again he didn't want to go any deeper into that topic. He was in a critical state of mixed emotions anyway.

Rowan had insisted on walking into the harem on her own two feet when they had arrived here a little earlier, not willing to show weakness in front of the girls but holding her head up high. And though she had noticed that there was something going on between Catherine and Norrington she didn't pay much attention to it since her eyes were still searching the room for the treacherous twins. If they had betrayed her to Shardul they would pay for it. Unfortunately she couldn't see them anywhere. There were a lot of frightened girls in the harem, unsure what would happen to them next as they still didn't believe in a happy ending for their captivity, but no Negro twins.

"You should go and look in the private chambers." She told Bill but he stubbornly refused to leave her side because that had been Jack's order. _Don't leave her alone_. She would have gone herself if it wasn't too painful to walk. Actually, even standing here was exhausting enough since there wasn't a bone in her body that didn't seem to hurt. Maybe it was only her own stubbornness that still kept her up.

"Rowan!" Catherine came to her hurriedly, her face full of worries. "Good Lord, what did he do to you? You look horrible- sorry for being so frank but…" She fell silent and looked for help. "Rowan needs the professional treatment of a doctor."

James had to admit that he hadn't cared much about Rowan's well-being until now, when Catherine did. Immediately he assured her that there was a very good surgeon aboard the Sovereign who would surely do his best.

"Ta, I'm fine." Rowan declined his offer. The least thing she needed now was a naval quack examining her. "Besides, Bill's gonna take care of me."

"As you wish, Milady."

"Aye, Bill's a master of traditional Chinese medicine." Jack agreed.

"Oh, are you?" Catherine shot Bill an interested glance.

"Nah, I'm not." Bill replied modestly. "Jack's exaggerating. I'd rather consider myself as an apprentice who still has a lot to learn."

That moment a big bang shook the walls of Kalpitiya and an explosion was to be heard- it sounded as if the powder magazine of the fortress had been hit. Panic spread in the wake of the detonation and the girls in the harem cried out hysterically.

Jack wrapped an arm around Rowan. "Come on darling, time to go home. This place's getting more and more uncomfortable."

"Jack! Captain Sparrow, we have to get the ladies out of here." James emphasized firmly but the pirate just shrugged.

"Alright then, it was you who wanted to free them so go ahead. Ye've got me blessings, Commodore."

James felt slightly overtaxed. Suddenly he was confronted with a crowd of hysteric young women who had never heard a military command so they wouldn't gather and march out of this place in two rows like well trained soldiers. It also didn't improve the situation that some of them had fainted with agitation.

However, Jack also had a problem. Rowan was still keen to pick a bone with the twins although she was aware of the fact that Shardul had had his way with her anyway.

"Oh please, can't ye just faint like the other girls do?" Jack sighed enervated as he picked her up in order to carry her away. Luckily she was too weak to protest. He had just reached the harem's door when he almost stumbled across Lieutenant Brody who was followed by a troop of Navy soldiers and swashbuckling pirates.

"Captain Sparrow, the fortress is in our command now. Longboats with reinforcement have landed in the harbour and we're tracking down the last enemies hidden in that place." Brody filled him in. "What do you need us to do next, Captain?"

"Well, help yer Commodore since he's quite distressed." Jack flashed him a golden grin and wanted to continue on his way when he remembered something important. "Oh, and don't forget to search the fortress for Shardul's treasure chamber."

James had heard that. "Sparrow! I will definitely **not** agree to any kind of looting! My soldiers will prevent that."

Jack wasn't so sure about that. He knew that the average soldier of the Royal Navy was underpaid and many of them had been pressed into service, therefore he had promised an equal share on all the booty they found here. He knew as well that Commodore Norrington wouldn't appreciate it but he left it to Brody to tell him. And Brody did tell him. Well, actually it was more like reminding him, since the brave young Lieutenant thought that would have been agreed.

Norrington felt cheated but he didn't want to reveal his ignorance in front of his subordinate and even less in front of Catherine, especially since she seemed to be delighted with this idea.

"It's very generous to offer an equal share, don't you think so, James?"

He grimaced unnoticed, then he agreed with a forced smile although he disagreed. Generous! It's easy being generous when you're giving away things you don't own but Jack Sparrow actually managed to make plundering place appear as a noble gesture. Catherine, however, was impressed. His soldiers had been highly motivated- no wonder. It was annoying how that pirate twisted everyone around his little finger and it was even worse that he had to play along.

Rowan couldn't remember much of their way through the fortress and to the longboats waiting in the secured harbour of Kalpitiya. Perhaps she'd done Jack the favour passing out for a moment, feeling safe and protected in his arms. She didn't even feel the damp coldness radiating from the old stone walls.

A little later she knew why. Fire. Smoke penetrated her nose and she coughed a little. She opened her eyes. They were just passing the big hall, that damned hall where Shardul had loved to show off with his favourite whore. The memory was suffocating her. She still wore that collar and she had to get it off. NOW. But she couldn't get it off; she had already tried it many times to no avail. The collar had a lock and Shardul kept the key to that lock.

"Jack, please," she begged him, pointing at the spiked leather collar, "help me. I can't breathe."

She must have sounded so desperate and at the edge of tears that Jack actually stopped. He let her down to the floor in order to cut the ugly thing around her neck; he hadn't liked it anyway. It had been a constant reminder of his failure to protect her from the depravation she had had to endure here, and he didn't like considering himself a failure. He'd rather called it misunderstandings leading to fateful endings- but in the end he didn't want to think about that at all. He didn't want to imagine what Shardul had done to her, he wanted to ignore it, dispel it. Everything would be alright again when they were back aboard the Pearl.

"Look," she said silently and he followed her eyes, knowing what she was about. There had been a giant statue of Nirrti dominating one wall of the hall but it was broken now, crumbled to pieces. He slightly kissed her forehead before he murmured, "Aye, luv, I see. It's all over now. Nirrti's dead. She won't bother ye anymore- nor will Shardul."

Jack was aware that he'd apparently grown soft, perhaps too soft for the infamous pirate captain that he was, but he didn't give a damn. So what? He just cared for her, that's it.

"Captain! Ye gotta get out of here. The bloody place's collapsing."

It was Marty addressing him. The little pirate crossed the hall, dragging behind him a chest with gold that seemed to be much too big for his size. He grinned from a soot smeared face but his grin faded when he spotted Rowan. "My, ye look horrible, lass. Here's to hoping the one who did that looks even worse."

"He does." Jack repeated dryly as he gathered Rowan in his arms again. Then he looked down to Marty and the chest, frowning. "Ye're sure ye can handle that? I'd help ye but as ye can see I've got no free hand left."

Marty snorted contemptuously as he flexed his muscles. "I might be a midget but I'm no weakling."

"I'll help ye nonetheless." Jack heard Bill offering the little one. Bill! He had followed them like a shadow, discreetly keeping distance but always around when needed.

More pirates- as well as some redcoats- scurried through the hall now, carrying armful of treasures; carpets, golden plates, silver chandeliers, strings of pearls, jewellery. They all seemed to be in a hurry to get out and they were right. The crackle of the fire was getting closer and there was a distant rumble of collapsing walls. At least Jack knew which way to go now since Rowan hadn't been able to tell him as she had never seen any exit of this hell on earth.

A few minutes later she could have wept with joy. First it was very indistinct, only a slight change of atmosphere, a breath of fresh air, but then she could smell the sea and she felt warm wind on her skin. Freedom was near, so very near.

In the entrance hall of Kalpitiya a very determined battle must have taken place since many bodies lay dead on the floor. Rowan was relieved to see that most of them had been Shardul's men. Nevertheless, it wasn't a pretty sight. In fact it was rather disturbing for many of the young girls which entered the hall now, escorted by Norrington, Catherine, Brody and four naval soldiers. They shrieked hysterically, some fainted.

Suddenly a wailing howl was to be heard- just like one imagined mad banshees would sound - and it was coming closer. The few ladies who hadn't panicked yet did so now, when from another corridor two horribly maimed, stark naked women appeared. Actually even Jack had to swallow hard at the sight of them and he had seen a lot in his life. This probably topped it all. They mourned Shardul's death- which alone was sick enough- but to them a silent tear or two wouldn't do; they had gone much further. In order to prove their deep grief for that bloody, depraved bastard they had maimed themselves. Their faces were cut beyond recognition and- no, Jack didn't want to think about all the other parts of them they had disfigured, let alone take a look at it.

One of the twins spotted Rowan and shot her an accusingly glance. "You destroyed our lives!" she yelled. Then she took her sister's hand and together they walked into the burning fortress.

Rowan saw them becoming human torches and it filled her with satisfaction. Nevertheless she had to vomit although there wasn't much left in her stomach but bitter-tasting bile. Jack patted her shoulder- and then he watched in disbelief that some of the girls did in fact follow the example the twins had given, preferring a cruel death to freedom. He tried to hold them back and so did the others, but to no avail. It was a tragedy caused by the bloody rules of decorum that had been imprinted on these poor girls since the day they were born. They had been taught that virginity was their most precious good and now that they had lost it here, no matter if that had definitely been unintentionally and unwanted, they considered themselves worthless, ruined for life. Damned, who had failed to tell them that virginity was highly overrated?

Everyone was shocked. One girl started to pray but all prayers sounded useless in a place like this. James cleared his throat. "We have to get away from here or we will all lose our minds."

He turned to Brody and gave orders to escort the remaining girls to the longboats; the tone of his voice indicated that they should be forced to go if necessary. He was not willing to let any more of them die here.

The booty was already stowed in the longboats when they reached them, the pirates had seen to that. Of course, James thought with bitterness and yet he was taken by surprise as he noticed that the pirates seemed to be equally shattered about the events. It was also a surprise to see these swashbuckling rogues treating the girls with more gentleness than he had ever believed them being able of. He sighed and helped Catherine into one of the boats.

Jack's eyes followed that scene with a grin. He had noticed that the Commodore was holding Catherine's hand just a little bit longer than it was actually needed to get her safely aboard. So Norrington was a man of flesh and blood, and not only made of propriety, laws and restrictions. And apparently the Countess liked that side of him since she gave him a lovely smile.

No one dared to look back when they left the harbour of Kalpitiya. Rowan was just glad to see stars shining from a velvet sky, to feel a warm breeze on her face, playing with her hair, and to smell the salty scent of the sea. The steady splashing of the oars almost lulled her to sleep, contently cuddled up in Jack's arms. After all, it had been a bloody hard day. Then suddenly she overheard a remark Commodore Norrington had murmured, lost in thoughts as it seemed, while staring at some chests filled with gold.

"I really do wonder why he hoarded such a fortune and yet his fortress was all barren and cold," he mused aloud.

"He had big plans." Rowan replied, remembering a conversation between Shardul, the King of Kandy and the Indian warlord. She hadn't paid much attention to it then and probably it didn't matter anymore now, nevertheless she thought she had to fill him in. "He'd set himself the ambitious goal of re-conquering Madras and getting rid of the Brits there. King Wimeladharmsuriya was his partner in crime, as well as an Indian guy called Madeshwar…"

"Lord Madeshwar?"

"Lord? Why, a bloody warlord he is."

James arched a sceptical brow. "Now that's very unlikely. Lord Madeshwar is known to be a faithful supporter of the English Crown. Besides, how did you happen to learn that anyway? I really do doubt they had been talking about such things in the presence of a w- woman." Embarrassed he bit his tongue since the word whore had almost escaped his lips. "I'm sorry, I meant no offence."

"Actually I don't give a damn what ye think about me or if ye believe me. Fact is that Shardul was an arrogant bastard who didn't care whether I eavesdropped on their conversation because he felt so goddamned safe; he believed that Kalpitiya was impregnable." She fell silent, too tired to argue with a bloody Navy officer. Jack still had to tell her how he had come to end up with Norrington as an ally, but not today. Today she merely wanted to crawl into her bed and sleep, hoping to wake up one day and all this had just been a nightmare. Alas, before she would get some sleep the painful procedure of setting her broken fingers was waiting for her and she really wasn't keen on that.

"So he commandeered British ships and with the plunder from these attacks he wanted to raise an army of mercenaries against the Brits? Well, I can't help it but that sounds kinda hilarious." Jack said, flashing a cheeky grin at the Commodore who didn't seem to be that amused.

"Though hilarious is definitely not the word I would use I have to agree that it doesn't lack a certain irony. Fortunately we have thwarted his evil plans."

"I can't tell you how grateful I am to you and Captain Sparrow. It was such a heroic deed to come and save us in spite of the tremendous odds against you." Catherine interjected.

"Ah, 'twas a pleasure, fair lady." Jack failed to mention that he had actually hadn't given a damn about the other captured women, that he had only came to rescue Rowan. But well, it nevertheless was a pleasure to see gratitude in the eyes of any pretty woman.

James rolled his eyes. He just hated it that Jack Sparrow always managed to twist everyone around his dirty little finger, even Catherine, and he felt torn between throttling the pirate or joining in the queue of his admirers. It was sad but an incontrovertible fact that without Jack he wouldn't be here today, he wouldn't have met Catherine again. However, whether this was for better or worse only time would tell.

"I'm sure the other girls are grateful too although they're still not able to show it. After all, life won't be easy for any of us now that we've survived the hell of Kalpitiya…" Apparently Catherine didn't want to continue her considerations because she changed the topic with a shuddering shrug. "Anyway, talking about Shardul's dubious wealth I wanted to tell you something else and that is about a rumour going on amongst the Dutch girls. They claim that the Governor of Colombo had been bribing Shardul so that he won't kidnap his daughter. There had been talk about a generous amount of gold." She turned to address James. "You should have a word with him when we bring back the Dutch girls to their home town."

James frowned. He had never thought of what would become of these poor young ladies once they were rescued but it surely had never come to his mind to bring them all back to their home towns. After all, the Royal Navy was not a passenger fleet. But it couldn't hurt to sail to Colombo since said port was close and he did indeed want to have a word with Thomas van Ree concerning these serious accusations. Also, James couldn't just swallow van Ree's  
blaming of the Royal Navy for being ineffective in hunting down Shardul when he himself had allegedly bribed the man.

"Lieutenant Brody, give orders to set sails as soon as we're aboard the Sovereign again. We're heading for Colombo."

"Well, I'd be much obliged though if you'd drop us off at the Pearl first," said Jack, a request the Commodore didn't object to at all.

Rowan had been in a daze for most of the time but as soon as they entered Jack's cabin she was wide awake again- or at least awake enough to spot the bottle of rum on the table and grab it, gulping down the rum until Bill took the bottle from her hand.

"Easy now, lass. Too much rum isn't good for ye, savvy?" He helped her to sit down on the bed.

Jack didn't see any reason to begrudge a thirsty man- or, in this case, a thirsty woman- a good sip of rum, nevertheless he didn't object. Bill probably knew what he was doing. There was no reason though why he shouldn't have a mouthful.

"Jack, get me hot water and dressing material!"

He almost spilled his rum. Apparently Bill was forgetting his place because no one was ordering about **Captain** Jack Sparrow. With an indignant glare he opened to cabin door and bellowed that order to the first one passing by.

Meanwhile Bill tried to soothe Rowan by telling her what had to be done and that she won't feel any pain due to the acupuncture needles he was going to set. It was to no avail. She had always been a scaredy-cat when it came to medical treatment although that had never stopped her from rushing headlong into situations where she was likely to get wounded. And yet she flinched at the idea of having needles pinned into her skin- oddly, she hadn't flinched at all when the tattoo had been imprinted on her finger. However, he had to be very careful with her today. She tried to hide it, pretended to be strong, but her nerves were at a breaking point and he had no intention of pushing her beyond her limits. Thus he considered the use of Laudanum. It was not his favourite choice since he knew the side effects; opium was addictive. On the other hand there was no point and purpose in frightening her more than she already was. She needed to sleep, her agitated mind had to come to a rest.

At the moment, however, Rowan had something else in mind. "I want to take a bath first," she demanded, sounding almost like a defiant child.

"Listen, dear, I'm the last to begrudge ye a bath and I do understand yer wish but…"

"What's the problem, Bill?" Jack snapped. "If my woman wants to bathe we'll see to that, savvy?"

"Ah, and since when d'ye have a tub aboard the Pearl?"

"Well, that's a good point, Mr Turner, a very good point." He frowned, then turned to Rowan. "Sorry luv, no bath today. But I promise that I'll buy ye a big tub once we're in Colombo. What d'ye say?"

Rowan didn't say a word, instead she bit her lips and fought back her tears since she didn't want to wait until tomorrow to feel clean again. Jack might not understand her need but then again he hadn't been the one that had been raped. It didn't even make sense to try and explain it to him, simply because she didn't want to talk about it. Not today. Maybe tomorrow…

Bill seemed to have a more sensitive perception of what troubled her. He had always been quite good in looking behind the surface of a person and the years in the Buddhist monastery had sharpened this sense. Now he could even figure out Jack- sometimes- although he was still a hard man to predict.

"Look, here comes the hot water." Bill said gently when a pirate knocked at the door. "I think we'll leave ye for a moment, aye? I've gotta fetch me medicine bag and Jack…" Jack still made no attempt to leave the cabin so Bill grabbed him at his sleeve and dragged him out of the room. "…come on, there're some issues ye've gotta care for."

"Issues? What issues?"

"My, take over the helm, tell Gibbs to set course for Colombo- ah, and get me some sticks. I need some small, straight and flat pieces of wood…"

"Mate, do I look like a bloody carpenter? I'm still the Captain of the Pearl."

Bill rolled his eyes. "Aye, and ye're an insensitive idiot sometimes. Didn't ye notice that Rowan needs a moment of privacy? I know ye just wanna care for her but give her a break, give her room to breathe. And get me the splints for her fingers, please."

When the two men returned to the cabin later, Rowan was sitting on the bed, wearing one of Jack's shirts. She smelled of soap and looked a bit more relaxed than before, which might had something to so with the bottle of rum she held in her good hand; it was almost empty now.

Bill frowned upon her but well, he wanted to get her drugged anyway and the more rum she had inside the less Laudanum he would have to give her. He opened his bag and took out a small green bottle as well as some thin needles.

Immediately Rowan stiffened up. She had almost forgotten about the throbbing pain in her fingers but seeing those needles the pain increased until it became maddening and her whole body was shuddering.

"Shh. Don't panic. All I want ye to do is to drink this and then ye will fall sound asleep and feel no pain, savvy?"

"Sure?" She asked weakly. Then she looked at Jack torn between begging him to hold her hand and begging him to leave; she didn't want him to see her so weak, so fragile. Also, he was making her kind of nervous the way he paced up and down the cabin, unable to keep his hands still, now and then stopping to throw a glance over Bill's shoulder, asking stupid questions.

"One thing, mate- ye said ye can cease her pain with these little needles of yers so why d'ye intend to drug her now? Makes no sense to me, if ye get the point."

"Jack, why don't ye do what ye're good at- for instance, sailing the Pearl to Colombo- and let me do what I'm good at?"

"That's what I'm just trying to find out," he murmured, scratching his chin.

"Jack, do me a favour, will ye?" Rowan plead and at once the pirate captain was at her side, taking her good hand into his.

"Aye, my love, whatever you want."

"Leave now." It almost broke her heart to see his face go blank as he abruptly rose from the bed, obviously taking offence at being sent away by her. She clung to his hand. "Please, I meant no offence but there's nothing ye can do for me at the moment. So let Bill do his job without distracting him all the time. Ye trust Bill, don't ye?"

Jack looked at Bill- did he trust him? Well, despite all that had transpired between them or just because of that he still trusted him more than anyone else, except Rowan perhaps. So he nodded. Yet he couldn't deny the selfish urge to stay with her and make sure she was alright even though there was nothing he could do about it. Cracking a smile that didn't reach his dark eyes he kissed her forehead and said, "Aye, ye're right luv. I guess Bill can handle the situation without me assistance. I'm at the helm then- just in case ye need me."

He was almost at the door when Rowan's voice caused him to stop and turn around again.

"Will ye come back to me after Bill's done? I," _I don't wanna to be alone, I need to feel yer proximity, the warmth of yer skin; I need to smell yer scent. I need ye to hold me tight to keep the nightmares at bay, I'm scared_, she thought but all she said was, "I think I might feel better when ye're around."

This time, Jack's smile wasn't faked.

Rowan breathed out a sigh of relief when he was finally gone although a part of her still wanted him to hold her hand. But the part of her that didn't want him to see her so weak, fragile and scared was definitely stronger. "Now gimme that potion and do what ye must do," she said to Bill, trying to sound determined.

"Ah Rowan," he helped her to lie down comfortably and fluffed up a pillow, "Jack might be a daft idiot sometimes but don't ye think he's man enough to love ye with all the rough edges and weak sides of yers? Sometimes it requires more strength to allow weakness and it's definitely not a shame to show tears."

She didn't reply; she had already gulped down the Laudanum and was too dozy to mull over Bill's words. With a deep sigh he took her hand and concentrated on her broken fingers.

-

Jack was restless. Without any goal he strolled across the Pearl, walked up the steps to the afterdeck, checked the lanterns and watched the reflection of their lights mingling with the lights of Colombo in the water. Then he descended to the main deck again, sauntering along the rail to the bow.

He had been sitting at Rowan's bed for most of the day, wanting to be there for her but when Bill had instructed him to wake her every two hours and give her some tea he had realized he wasn't any good at playing the nurse. He didn't mind caring for her though- it was just boring to sit and wait, and the tea smelled… well, not really horrible but not tasty either. If only she had talked to him. Alas, she was sound asleep except for the times he had to give her another cup of tea. She'd swallow it without resistance, mumble something unintelligible, and fall asleep again, leaving him alone with all his thoughts, worries, and feelings of guilt. His failure was clearly visible in the bruises on her face. And if that wasn't enough, the ticking of the bloody clock was driving him mad. After listening to it for a couple of hours he'd taken it and thrown it overboard. _Sorry Bill, there are limits of what a man can bear._ That had earned him some odd looks but he was used to odd looks, he seemed to attract them unintentionally. He had stopped for a moment, wondering why the hell he was in Colombo anyway since he hadn't been so keen to come back to the place where it all had begun. Also, he certainly hadn't intended to follow Norrington like a dog after a bone; they had been allies but they were far from being friends. Well, after all's said and done they both had gotten what they wanted. Jamie would be decorated for his heroic rescue of the young ladies and for preventing a conspiracy against the British troops in Madras, and he had gotten Rowan back, a bit battered though but luckily alive. Nothing else mattered.

Nonetheless, there were moments when he was upset about her ill-considered action of going with Shardul even though she knew how dangerously mad he was. She should have told him, she should have trusted him that he would have been able to handle Shardul. After all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow- no, he was just a fool who had proven once before that his knowledge of the human nature was not the best since he had totally misjudged Barbossa, underestimated him. He would have underestimated Shardul too. Actually he hadn't believed in the stories Marris had told him about the Tiger until he had seen his private torture chamber for depraved lust and the image of Rowan being in control of that madman was still haunting him. She shouldn't have sacrificed herself for him, she shouldn't have gone though hell for him. And yet she had done so, for love's sake. _Love. What a plain little word for a feeling that can lift you up to heaven in one minute and sends you crashing down to hell the next,_ _like a ship that's lurching through the raging sea in the midst of a hurricane._

Jack thumped on the rail with his fist. _Sorry, Pearl_.The planks under his feet creaked comfortingly as he moved on, strolling along the starboard side for a change. His thoughts strayed back to Rowan. He had promised her a tub so that she could take a bath, that's what he was here for, and although not all the love in this world could make him walk the streets of Colombo carrying a tub- after all, there was still his reputation to be considered- he had seen to it that his men got hold of a nice tub while in town, purchasing supplies for their voyage back to Madras. He was fairly aware that this was only a small thing he could do for her after all she'd done for him although he never would have asked such a selfless idiotically courageous deed of her. She shouldn't have… ah, damned, she was just so beautifully insane to fall in love with a bloody scallywag like him and she should never feel sorry because of that. _To hell with love but I love her…_

A change of scent in the air caught Jack's attention. Tobacco, and quite a fine one indeed. He followed his nose until he came upon a guy sitting close to the figurehead of the Sovereign, legs dangling across the rail, smoking a cigar.

"Good choice, mate. Is that Cuban tobacco I smell?"

"It is. I'm surprised about your sense of smell though, Captain Sparrow."

If one of them was surprised now then it was Jack. He recognized the voice of Commodore Norrington but the person sitting there and talking to him didn't remind him of the stiff Navy officer at all; instead he looked just like… like… like an ordinary man. A handsome man. James wasn't wearing his wig tonight, his face was unshaven and the stubbles gave him an almost swashbuckling appearance. Actually he could have been a pirate except that his casual clothes were much too clean.

"My, what's gotten into ye, Commodore? Ye're alright?" Jack asked bewildered.

"Why, thanks for asking." James shrugged indifferently. "And there's no need to address me formally since I'm not on duty tonight."

"Ah, so instead of enjoying yer time off ye sit here puffing lonely smoke rings of dissatisfaction into the air?"

"How about you, Jack? You strolling around your ship didn't give the impression of having a good time either."

"I'm a conscientious pirate captain who cares for his ship therefore I've gotta check everything on a regular basis, savvy?"

James sighed. "Mayhap we should stop fooling ourselves. I was just thinking over my conversation with Governor van Ree, which wasn't pleasant. Anyway, he promised to resign and return to Holland if I don't report he was bribing Shardul…"

"Lemme guess, that doesn't agree with yer conscience or yer sense of propriety?"

"There you're wrong. And please stop sniffing- if you want a cigar why don't you just ask me?"

Jack flashed him a golden smile and opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. "Ye're a generous man, Jamie. Why don't ye come over here and we're having a swig of rum while smoking." To his great surprise the naval officer actually took him at his word and came up the gangway. "Welcome aboard the Black Pearl," he cheered.

"Well, it's a dubious pleasure." James certainly wouldn't have accepted the pirate's offer if he had been on duty but fortunately he wasn't, so he took his time to look around. He had been aboard other pirate ships- after tracking and hunting them down, of course- but none of them had looked like the Pearl. Most pirate ships were hardly seaworthy and only kept together by dirt. The Black Pearl however was very well cared for, her dark wood was polished so that it almost gleamed. He also noticed the many small details that were beautiful to look at, the elaborated wood carvings at astern or just the special form of her lanterns.

"She's a beauty, ain't she?" Jack said with undisguised pride in his voice as he reached him a bottle of rum. James agreed with a nod of his head and took to the bottle.

"Aye," he said then, "and it would be a pity having to send her to the bottom of the ocean, so promise me to avoid the waters under my administration in the future. I will not tolerate any act of piracy once we're back in Madras."

"Savvy- if ye promise to send me a letter as soon as yer range of administration's changin'."

James rolled his eyes. It was his duty to fight piracy in all its forms but he also knew that he would neglect his duties again when it came to Jack. He had missed the boat to take him to the gallows a long time ago and there was no denying that he was twisted around the pirate's little finger now, actually he even liked him. Letting out a deep sigh he took another mouthful of rum; it was surprisingly good. Nevertheless he didn't want to know where Jack had got it from so he spoke of his visit to Governor van Ree instead.

"You asked me if not reporting van Ree is conflicting with my conscience and, well, it is. He should be charged for bribing Shardul, for being such a miserable coward. But on the other hand he was just trying to protect his daughter and after seeing the horrors of Kalpitiya I can't hold that against him." He shuddered involuntarily as he remembered the sight of Shardul's private torture chamber and drank some more rum. "By the way, how's Rowan?"

"She's fine- and how's yer pretty Countess?"

"Catherine is married to Lord Edward Talbot, the Earl of Shrewsbury, therefore she is not my…"

"Ah, do I hear regret in yer voice?" Jack cut him short.

James didn't reply, silently he puffed on his cigar, trying to keep his dignity. He had never talked about Catherine before and he was not going to pour out his heart to a pirate. But the rum had already taken its effects on him and he couldn't hold his tongue any longer.

"We were childhood friends; the Ashcroft family lived next to our estate so we literally grew up together. I have to admit that I was very fond of her then but that, of course, had only been an adolescently infatuation..."

"Of course- that's why ye still love her." Jack exhaled the smoke from his cigar and watched it fade away in the night.

"I'm not in love with her."

"Jamie, Jamie," Jack shook his head, "yer such a decent, well-educated man- but did no one ever tell ye not to lie to a pirate?"

"So what? It doesn't matter whether I love her or not since Catherine is still the wife of Edward Talbot…"

"I'm sure there're ways to get rid of unwanted husbands."

James shot him an indignant glance, "It was a suitable match that gained her family a lot of status. The Ashcrofts felt honoured when the Earl asked for the hand of their daughter, and it didn't matter to them that she was in love with me; it's not proper for a young lady to decide whom to marry. Besides, my family was of lower rank than hers…"

"Now **that** doesn't matter."

"It does. It's a matter of decorum, the honour of the family has to be maintained. Well, I questioned it then but I had to learn that the rules of society were much stronger than two adolescents in love. I was pressed to join the Royal Navy and Catherine was married to Lord Talbot. That happened almost twenty years ago. I never saw her again, until yesterday…"

"Surprise, surprise, and I almost thought ye couldn't wait to join the Navy and become a stiff as a poker Commodore."

"No, definitely not. Actually I hated it first. It was only after I had learned that Catherine was lost for me forever that I accepted the path that had been predestined for me since the day I was born."

"Not all is lost. She still cares for ye, so why don't ye woo her?"

"Jack, she's a married woman…"

"Edward wouldn't need to know, after all, he's in England and ye're here."

"…and I would never commit adultery. Lord Talbot would file a petition for divorce and life in England is difficult for a divorced woman. Well, probably he will divorce her anyway because of the fact that she had been held prisoner in a harem. He won't believe her that Shardul didn't touch her and therefore will consider her ruined."

Jack frowned upon that and scratched his chin. "Ye're not willing to commit adultery because then Edward will divorce her but if he's gonna divorce her anyway I don't get the point. Why begrudge Catherine the pleasure of having a good time with ye? Given ye're not a eunuch of course. "

"I should not have such a conversation with a pirate." James murmured silently.

"And besides, ye should be glad to see her divorced 'cause then you can finally marry her."

"I can't." When James saw Jack rolling his eyes and looking enervated at the sky, he added explanatory. "Life is not as easy as you see it; unlike you I am a respectable member of society therefore I'm bound to rules and laws, and there's still the good name of my family to be considered. It's a delicate situation that doesn't lack a certain irony given that Catherine used to be too high above me once but as a divorced woman she will be far below my rank, shunned by society. My family would never approve to such a marriage."

"Jamie, I'm really fed up with all these cheap and hollow excuses of yers; I think Catherine deserves better than that. She's a fine woman, be she a countess or whatever. So don't let all these restrictions suffocate ye 'cause the only thing that really matters is- are you man enough to love her and to stand by her or are you just a miserable wimp? And now I'd be much obliged if ye'd please be so kind to pass over the rum; I'm mightily thirsty."

-

Rowan could have purred with pleasure when she woke up. She noticed the slight rocking of a ship high at sea and when she opened her eyes she saw golden beams of sunlight falling in through the window. For a while she was content just to lie there and dozily watch some glimmering dust particles dancing in the air, amazed by the sheer beauty of such a simple thing. However, there hadn't been any beauty in Kalpitiya, only dim twilight, and she had missed the light of the sun, the warmth of it. Finally she felt warm again.

It was then that she noticed she wasn't alone. Involuntarily she held her breath and stiffened up, thus waking Jack who apparently had come to bed while she had been asleep.

"Sorry luv, didn't wanna wake ye," he slurred, voice still husky with sleep. Sitting up he slightly moved away from her and rubbed his eyes.

"Well, seems it was me who woke you."

"Ne'er mind. It's juss- I've been so tired after a night of counselling Jamie concerning Catherine, and then getting Pearl ready to leave Colombo with the morning tide…" Jack broke off to give her a gentle, almost insecure smile. "Honestly, I didn't wanna disturb ye."

"Jamie?" She asked sceptically, but not disturbed about Jack's presence at all. Actually she was quite glad that he was around since he gave her the feeling of safety, of being protected. He made her forget what she'd gone through, making her curious instead.

"Commodore James Norrington."

"I know who you mean- I was just wondering why ye call him Jamie and what's he gotta do with Catherine." The moment she said it she frowned with recognition since she remembered again what Catherine had told her about her former love._ Could this possibly have been Norrington? Nah, it was too hard to imagine that stiff dry Navy officer to be a bookworm- except for books that were titled 'How to hunt down pirates?' or naval issues perhaps- and yet…_

Jack filled her in about the details of James and Catherine's tragic love story and she was taken by surprise, wondering what had made Norrington talk to a pirate of all people. The answer was quite simple- a bottle of rum. But that was once half the truth.

"Well, who else but a pirate could have given him the advice to follow his heart and not get hoisted in his own petard of stupid social rules?" He said with a grin that got even broader when he continued. "I told him not to behave like a wimp but to talk to her or I would do it because some people just can't spot an opportune moment. Apparently he took that as a threat."

Rowan laughed, which was a wonderful sound, Jack thought.

"I would've have loved to see yer attempt to pair off the Commodore though I really can't see why anyone would want him."

"Ah, don't get him wrong, luv. Deep in his heart he's good guy but most of the time he's too keen on dividing black from white without seeing all the shades of grey. It's a shame what the Navy can do to a man. Anyway, he helped me so it was only fair to help him."

She mused about it and came to the conclusion that he was probably right. Mayhap the Commodore wasn't such a bad guy at all- on the other hand he was still a Navy Officer and she felt no love for any kind of authority, therefore it remained a mystery to her why Jack was so unexpectedly familiar with him now. She wanted to know all about his strange relation to Norrington.

"Now that's a long story, luv."

"We've got time, ain't we?"

"Aye, sure." _Gibbs can handle the Pearl a little bit longer without my assistance- that's why he's my first mate- and if that's not enough there's still Mr Cotton. Being a mute has never stopped him from being a good sailor, and he definitely has a knack with the Pearl._ "I'll tell ye ev'rything ye wanna know- but not before breakfast."

Kissing the tip of her nose he rose from the bed and hurried to plunder the galley. He didn't know when she had eaten last but given the hungry growl of her stomach it must have been a long time ago. He wanted to pamper her, anticipate her every wish, and even though he was glad to be with her, glad for the easy-going atmosphere between them, he nevertheless felt guilty each time he looked at her and saw the bruises on her face, her swollen eye.

After breakfast they cuddled up in bed and Jack told her how he'd come to meet Norrington, but he had just begun with his story when Rowan already interrupted him.

"Why did ye sail to Madras of all places?"

"Well, I saw ye walking away with that Indian guy, Shardul, only that I didn't know it was Shardul then. First I thought ye were leaving me for good but…" He shouldn't have said that; he knew it the instant the words left his mouth and her face went blank.

"Ye were doubting me, my love for you?" She snapped incredulously.

"No, no, no- don't get me wrong, luv. I'd **never** doubt ye. But I didn't know what was going on at first and when ye didn't come back I began to wonder. Then I remembered the colour of yer eyes so I guessed ye didn't go with him voluntarily. Given that he'd looked every inch an Indian Lord and knowing ye lived in Madras once, I thought he might have abducted ye there. That's why I decided to set sails for Madras."

That was a reasonable explanation and Rowan knew it, nevertheless she said accusingly, "Ye should've waited for Marris, he would have told ye all about Shardul."

"Well, I must confess that I wasted no thought on Marris since my only concern was to get ye back and safe as soon as possible."

"I'm sorry."

Jack kissed her head. "No luv, no need to feel sorry. Mayhap I should have waited for Marris but I didn't even know he'd witnessed that scene and would come to fill me in. It was only after he caught up with me in Jamie's office that I found out. On the other hand, I'm not sure if waiting for Marris would have been of any help at all. Call it a lucky entanglement of coincidences that I've sailed to Madras and stumbled across the good ol' Commodore since I just possibly wouldn't have gotten into Kalpitiya all on my onesies."

Rowan sighed and relaxed again, leaning back in his arms that felt so comfortingly protective. Without interrupting him once more she let him finish his story about the unusual alliance between pirates and the Royal Navy.

"I never doubted ye would come, I always believed in ye," she said then, a bit sleepily.

"Aye, ye can always trust in me 'cause I'd never let ye down. I just wish ye'd told me about Shardul before, ye should have…"

"Damned, don't ye think I know that? After all,** I** was the one who paid for it!"

"I know, darling, I know. And I'm so sorry." Jack gathered her in his arms and cradled her softly, burying his head in her hair so that she couldn't see the tears in his eyes. He was at a loss for words, which didn't happen very often to the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, but actually he gave a damn about his reputation and he was also far away from being full of himself now that he had to face his failure. Perhaps it would have been easier if she had broken down and cried because of the hell she'd gone through but Rowan just stiffened up, pretending to be fine although she obviously wasn't and thus giving him no chance to comfort her, soothe her. There were no words for what she had done. For him.

The easy atmosphere was gone, replaced by the heavy shadow of Kalpitiya hanging over them. That night Rowan had a nightmare. She woke up panic-stricken, covered with cold sweat, reaching out for Jack but he wasn't there. The reasonable part of her told her that he was captain of a pirate ship, he had duties and therefore he couldn't spend every minute with her, but then again she wasn't in the right mood for reason. She wanted to be hugged and soothed. On the other hand she had never been a weak, whining woman so why start it now? She could care for herself- well, most of the time- and she won't let a nightmare get her down, because after all it was nothing more than just a bad dream. _Have a sip of wine and relax_.

The bottle still stood where they had left it after dinner. It was a superb Rioja- apparently Jack had learned a great deal about wine since they were together, and he had developed a taste for it. Rowan however was not so choosy about bouquet or vintage now as long as the booze would dull her senses and leave her in a comfortable void of oblivion; she simply wanted to forget the horrors of Kalpitiya and sleep it off.

Of all the things she had had to live through there, the beating and even the raping hadn't been the worst part. She knew she had chosen a rough, difficult and dangerous life by becoming a female pirate in a world dominated by men where women had to knuckle under and be obedient. Strong, independent women were seen as a threat and therefore unlikely to be handled with kid gloves; she had always been aware of that. But she hadn't been prepared for depraved humiliation. The nights in the big hall had been worse, his sick showing-off with her in front of all his rude, cheering devotees; a jerk at the leash and his favourite whore would obey immediately. But worse, far worse than anything else had been her involuntarily reaction when he'd turned gentle for a change, his hands provoking, manipulative. She still felt ashamed and disgusted because her body had betrayed her, betrayed Jack. Mayhap it was for the best that he wasn't here since she could hardly face him now, remembering these moments. And yet she needed him.

Rowan considered going on deck to look for him but she was too tired, too worn out and exhausted. Also, her broken fingers ached again. She saw the bottle of laudanum still standing on the table where Bill seemed to have forgotten it, so she poured a good amount into her glass, added some wine, and unceremoniously gulped it down. _Ah, now gimme some sweet dreams…_

Madras- Rowan pulled a face when Jack told her they were heading for Madras of all places since she definitely did never want to go again. Too many bad memories, sad memories. But unfortunately the lovely Turner family was waiting there for them and they had promised to take them back home to Port Royal before their second child was born._ Never make rash promises again,_ she reminded herself, already fed up with the prospect of yet another voyage with a pregnant Elisabeth aboard- as if the first one hadn't been enough to last for a lifetime.

"Take them aboard the Pearl and don't pester me with the unpredictable cravings of pregnant women." She pointed out unmistakably clear.

"Well, I don't mind having them aboard but- the dog…" Jack grimaced as the vision of Buddy peeing on the plank of his Pearl flashed up in his minds eye.

"I'll tell Rashid to see to the mutt, perhaps it's quite delicious with chilli and garlic."

Jack chuckled until he became aware that she hadn't been joking. He sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I swear on pain of death, luv, that no one will be bothering ye if that's what ye want but actually I thought you'd be joining me aboard the Pearl and…"

Her eyes turned storm clouded and he knew immediately that he'd said something wrong again. Rowan shook off his arm.

"Ha! Since when d'ye bloody care what I want? Did ye ask me if I wanna go to Madras? No. Did I ever have the choice? No. Instead ye sent the Jewel back to Madras without even bothering to ask me, as if she's yer ship and not mine. But yer not the Commodore of a pirate fleet and I'm not an incompetent, helpless woman who can't decide for her own. Savvy?" She shouted accusingly.

Jack held his breath and counted to three. Her mood changed so rapidly lately, from apathy to hysteria and back. One moment she'd contently snuggle up in his arms and the next she'd have an outburst of rage or shut herself of completely, gazing into space. He needed a lot of patience these days since she was absolutely unpredictable.

"So what's it ye want? It would be a great deal easier if ye'd talk to me 'cause apparently I'm not good at guessing," he said quietly when Rowan had calmed down a bit.

She stared at him with wide eyes that suddenly were at he edge of tears. "I'm sorry. I- I don't know what's wrong with me." Then she flung her arms around his neck.

Jack comfortingly patted her back. "Ah, it's alright, luv, no offence taken. Ye've had a hard time so it's only naturally ye're wound tight. But hey, why don't ye come on deck with me for a while? It's a beautiful day and the sun's shining, it'll do ye good. Ye told me how much ye missed the sun and yet ye haven't left the cabin ever since ye came aboard."

He was right; she had missed the sun and she rather would have made herself comfortable in the jib's net now, staring at the open sea, the sky above, feeling the wind on her face and the sun warming her skin- if it had been the jib's net of the Jewel. Alas, she was aboard the Pearl therefore she declined his offer, pretending to be tired. But the real problem was that she had made the mistake of looking in the mirror and had been greeted by a very unsightly reflection of herself. Her hair was straggly and it's dreaded red colour only seemed to accentuate the paleness of her skin as well as the dark rings under her eyes- not to be forgotten the shimmering shades of her bruises, varying from a bluish purple to a sick yellowish green. It didn't matter that she'd washed her hair by now- all in all it was still clearly visibly written in her face what she'd lived through and she didn't want Jack's crew to see it. She wouldn't have bothered though if it had been her own crew, her friends, instead of people like Mr Gibbs who still had taken no liking to her. But unfortunately her crew wasn't around. Jack had sent the Jewel to Madras without asking her, which brought up **that** topic again. Yet she couldn't really blame Jack, neither for doing what he thought was right nor for her ill tempered, quickly changing moods. It also wasn't his fault that an increasing feeling of unrest seethed within her since he didn't do anything wrong. He didn't try to push her beyond her limits, instead he proved to be very patient, considerate and caring. Actually he should be rewarded because he could stand her sight and was still able to smile lovingly at her… that didn't change her mind about not going on deck though.

Jack sighed and sat down on the bed. He should be on deck now, barking orders at his crew of scurvy scallywags or otherwise doing his job as captain of a pirate vessel, but he couldn't leave Rowan alone now, not when she was in a mood like this. She'd merely brood over things that had happened, things that were unalterable and sadly not to be undone, no matter how much he wished it would be different. He wished he could have stopped her from going with Shardul, from making a sacrifice he'd never asked for. If only he had known… yet he hadn't and it wasn't the right time to cling to the sound of if only. It also wasn't the time for reproaches.

-

Catherine looked absolutely stunning when Jack saw her again at the docks, disembarking from the Sovereign. Apparently she hadn't hid herself under deck all the time since her face looked fetchingly freckled.

"Ah, so Milady had a pleasant journey to Madras I s'ppose?"

She smiled at him, showing dimples. "Very pleasant indeed, Captain Sparrow, and I believe thanks are in order."

"Why, I always appreciate the gratitude of a pretty lady." Jack replied politely and even sketched a bow which made her chuckle with laughter.

"My, Captain Sparrow, don't pretend to be a decent man because I'm well aware of your dubious reputation."

"Well then, luv, tell me what I've done to deserve yer thanks?"

"You mean apart from saving my life? Really, Captain Sparrow…"

"Jack. There's no need to be formally, pretty ladies are always allowed to call me Jack."

"I feel honoured." Catherine frowned though when he took his hand and breathed a kiss upon it. He was definitely a charmer but no matter how much he tried to fake the manners of a gentleman, his dirty fingers gave him away. Real gentlemen didn't dirty their hands- or they wore gloves to hide it and most of them had a lot to hide. "Actually, Jack, I was referring to the good advice you gave James."

"Ah, so Jamie did confess his love for ye?"

She blushed, every inch the noble English lady who shouldn't have such a talk with any man, let alone a pirate. But then again she had never given much about the strict rules of propriety. "Yes, we talked about it. We talked about our feelings and came to the conclusion that twenty years are a long time; people change, James has changed. Nevertheless, meeting again when we least expected it was a sign of fate, so we decided to take the risk of finding out if what's left of our former love is worth taking..."

"A very wise decision. Ye know I've always been rooting for Jamie and I'm glad he's finally found himself a girl- um, a fine woman I wanted to say, of course. So what are yer plans now?"

"Well, it isn't that easy. First of all I have to write a letter to Edward, telling him that I'm safe. Alas, my dear husband has to do without me for a little bit longer since _unfortunately_ there is no ship available that James could spare to grant me a safe passage back to England right now- but given that Edward already had younger mistresses before I left for India he won't miss me anyway. Probably he'll file a petition for divorce while I stay with Governor Wellington to mourn for his late niece."

Jack didn't miss the tone of her voice when Catherine spoke about her rightful husband since she didn't even try to hide how little love she had for him, and she was damned right with that. She definitely deserved better than a guy who'd replaced her without batting an eye, who wasn't aware of her lovely dimples or the way her freckled nose wrinkled up when she smiled.

"So, am I right to assume ye'll take yer time sorting out long missed chances while staying with Wellington? And talking about chances- what chances are there for you if your fine husband really decides to divorce ye?"

She sighed. "Few if not less. I could join a nunnery- that would be the most appropriable way to avoid misery. But though I really appreciate the work of the nuns, the walls of a cloister would weigh down on me. I've been imprisoned for too long. All of my life I've been told what I've got to do and now that I'm 'ruined' anyway, I… well, it might sound ridiculous but I long to be free."

"Freedom is never ridiculous." Jack said very seriously, his dark eyes focussed on Catherine.

"Perhaps not for a man, but for a woman it's a rebellious and stupid idea, I fear. I won't have any money, no social status and there's no chance that James' family would ever approve a marriage…"

"Ah, ye gotta forget about all these things since they're merely bounds of an oppressive society that'll keep ye from being free. Just follow the course of yer heart, luv. By the way, I heard ye've got some skills in healing?"

"Did Rowan tell you? She's definitely exaggerating- how is she anyway?"

"She's fine," Jack lied. However, she was as well as can be expected under the circumstances, physically healing but mayhap a tad neurotic. And yes, she had told him about Catherine. In fact he had made her talk about a lot of things concerning her imprisonment in the harem of Kalpitiya although she would never speak about Shardul, she didn't even utter his name. He wasn't sure if he could stand to hear what the depraved maniac had done to her anyway so perhaps that was for the best. And yet… he'd seen his torture chamber, it was still haunting him. But was it worse to know or to imagine what had really happened there? _No matter, don't think about that now. Back to Catherine…_

"Well, seems it's time to say goodbye now since we're leaving Madras in the morrow, it's back to our good ol' lifestyle of commandeerin', pilferin' 'n plunderin' again. Ne'ertheless, 'twas a pleasure to meet ye and I wish ye all the luck in the world."

Jack took Catherine's hand to breathe another kiss upon it but this time he closed her fingers to a fist after that. It was only then she noticed he had slipped something into her palm. She opened her hand to look at what had felt like pebbles or marbles and was stunned to see that these marbles were in fact some precious gemstones, glimmering red, blue, green and white in the sunlight.

"Oh my God…"

"Nah, that's too much of an honour," the pirate cut her short, flashing her his golden trademark grin, "and besides, didn't I tell ye to call me Jack? No need to praise me to the skies, luv. A plain 'thank ye Jack' would do, honestly."

"But that's a fortune!" Catherine gasped, still not believing what she held in her hands.

Jack closed her hand again, murmuring almost modestly. "Ah, 'tis only a drop in the ocean to help ye sailing through the rough current lying ahead of ye and I do want ye to succeed, savvy?"

"You are a generous man, Captain Sparrow, a very kind, warm-hearted man indeed. I really don't know what to say…"

"Sh! Hush now! Not too loud- think about me reputation as an infamous, black-hearted pirate."

Catherine chuckled, not telling him that he was anything but a black-hearted pirate for the reason that he wouldn't appreciate it anyway. It was also useless to even think about rejecting his gift since she knew very well that she wasn't in the position to have scruples about stolen- or, to be more precisely, looted- gemstones if she ever wanted to be free and be able to follow the course of her heart. And though she knew that wealth wasn't everything in life it would definitely be a great help. Now she could live through the scandals that would most likely follow in the wake of her divorce without fearing to become impoverished and end up in the gutter of the streets of London. Forgetting all her decorum she flung her arms around Jack's neck and gave him a smacking, very unladylike but yet very hearty kiss on his stubbly, unshaven cheek. "Thank you, Jack."

The pirate grinned broadly since a pretty lady kissing and not slapping him was definitely feeding his ego, which had suffered a bit recently, and even the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow needed a bit of reassurance sometimes.

-

_What have I done to us?_ Rowan wondered that evening. She didn't regret her decision to go with Shardul in order to spare Jack a fate worse than death; it might have been foolish but she'd done it for love and she loved him still. Nevertheless his love became more and more like a high prison wall and it was slowly suffocating her. He was so kind, so patient and caring that it almost got on her nerves. Damned, she wasn't sick, just a little bit unwell. There was no need to take constant care of her. He should be roaming the streets of Madras with his crew instead of hanging around with her since she didn't mind if he'd leave her alone. She'd rather be aboard her own ship anyway. But he seemed to feel obliged to stay with her.

If only things would have been like they were before. She missed his carelessness- although that was perhaps a bit too much to ask for after seeing the horrors of Kalpitiya, after he'd seen Shardul's torture chamber and her in it. Did he still have that in mind when he looked at her now? She didn't want his pity; she wanted to see the old spark of desire flashing up in his eyes when gazing at her, even though she definitely was not in the mood to get laid, at least not at the moment. Yet she longed to be looked at as if she was a desirable woman and not just Shardul's whore- of course he never gave her that feeling but it would have been so much more reassuringly if he'd been more sensual and less protective. She wasn't fragile, a kiss wouldn't shatter her but it would help to make what Shardul had done to her further away. And yet he won't kiss her. Somehow that was also her own fault. It ached for her to look at Jack and see him so unusually helpless because of her inability to talk to him. She knew she should speak of what had happened in Kalpitiya, if only that wasn't too embarrassing, too shaming… and much too soon. The memory was still too fresh, it rendered her speechless, tied her tongue. Too many shadows lay between them, all born in the dim twilight of Kalpitiya. Some things, once broken, could never be made whole again and she prayed that wouldn't happen to them although they were burdened with horrors that weighed them down.

At the moment she felt broken inside and she knew it would take her a good while to become the same woman she was before Kalpitiya. She wasn't sure though how to find her way back. It definitely wouldn't work when she stayed. Their love would slowly die, worn out by the memory of Shardul's torture chamber. Passion would turn into boredom and at long last Jack would only stay with her for pity. But she won't let that happen, her sacrifice should not become a failure in the end. She didn't want Shardul to be one who laughs last, even if he laughed in hell. So no matter how much she loved Jack, she had to leave him now or everything she'd done had been in vain. She needed a break. Nevertheless she didn't want a complete break-up of their relationship, she just wanted to… well, put it on ice for a while.

Perhaps it wasn't fair not to tell him about her plans but then again life was never fair. She just had had to learn that and it had been a painful lesson. Of course he wouldn't understand her; he wouldn't let her go voluntarily. He'd try and persuade her to stay but if she stayed… she'd gone through that a dozen times or more without coming to a satisfactory conclusion than the one she'd already made. Her heart ached at that thought and yet she wouldn't falter, she had to go. She had to find herself again and that she couldn't do with Jack at her side, that she had to do all on her onesies.

There was a moment though when she was wavering if she'd really taken the right decision and that was when they went to bed. It felt so good to be cuddled up to his warm body, his arms protectively wrapped around her… she'd surely miss that in the next few days or weeks, the way he radiated warmth as if his skin had absorbed the tropical sun. Then he kissed her. Actually it was merely meant to be a loving but chaste goodnight kiss yet she replied it with an enthusiasm that surprised both of them. It sent a shiver down her spine when his hands trailed along her back; she felt like melting inside and all the boundaries of intention seemed to be crashing down… until he fell asleep. She let out a frustrated moan. Although she didn't want his touch to become more intimate she was nevertheless disappointed and took it personally that he'd fallen asleep. She blamed it on her lack of attractiveness, not noticing that Jack had hardly slept at all since she had been captured by Shardul.

Their kiss had been a farewell kiss, that she knew now when she sat down at the table to write a letter, stating her reasons. Leaving him wasn't easy but it was time to take a love break.

_Jack,_

_I really love you but sometimes love just isn't enough- or too much. I've done things that scare me now and apparently I've lost myself in the aftermaths of what I've gone through, nevertheless I don't regret my decision. After all, it was for love, it was for you. But now I need solitude instead of proximity. I need to see endless horizons in front of me, I need freedom to find myself again, the woman you once fell in love with. She's still there, just hidden under piles of shit that had happened and much of that was my fault, you're not the one to blame. You've been so patient with me so please give me the time I need to sort things out. You can't help me with that, I have to do it all on me onesies. Besides, I fear that our love could become hollow and fade if we don't give it a break. You look at me and I know you still remember the pitiful sight of me in his ghastly torture chamber. However, I want more than pity. I'm not merely a deplorable victim, I'm… well, that I have to find out. So for love's sake please accept my decision, it's not easy for me either. Don't follow me, don't come looking for me. I'll find you wherever you are as soon as I think the time's right to come back, and I'll be back one day. _

_Rowan_

Do you want to read more? A second part of Tales of Love and Loss? Well, you know what you got to do, don't you? There is this little button in the left corner…


	9. rum soaked friendship

Part 2- the lost years

Chapter 9- rum soaked friendship

_Port Royal, 1697_

A lonely figure walked along the dark streets of Port Royal, swaying like a drunk, and the beads in his long, unkempt hair tinkled with every step he made. Then suddenly he stopped, looking around as if he'd lost his bearings. But Captain Jack Sparrow was neither drunk nor did he ever lose his bearings- unless, of course, somebody took away some significant point of reference from the townscape, like a church steeple, and there had been a church here once. St. Peter's, to be more precise. Three blocks from the church to the docks. But there wasn't a church anymore and on dark and stormy nights the bells of St. Peter were ringing underwater now, some superstitious sailors had told him. The devastating earthquake of 1692 had changed the sight of Port Royal, two thirds of the city was submerged. Everything had changed.

He passed a tavern; the warm light of candles fell through the windows and he could hear the sound of merry laughter. For a moment he hesitated, thirsty, but then he just walked on, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat. He was not in the mood for company. Visiting the Turners had definitely been enough social commitment for one day. His ears were still ringing from Will's proud praising of his two bawling brats and though he could partly understand his friend's pride there was absolutely no need to make Lydia and little William the only topic of their conversation- besides, what an original idea to name the young one after his father and grandfather. On the other hand, what else should they have talked about? He could hardly tell of the ships he had plundered when Will's father-in-law was around and he was always around since the whole family lived in the Governor's mansion now, including Bootstrap Bill Turner. The thought of Bill almost made him chuckle if it hadn't been so sad to see him in those fine clothes, his hair neatly tied back in the nape of his neck, the tattoos on his arms securely covered by satin sleeves ending in frills. Poor Bill- for most of his life he'd been fighting the rules of society and now these rules had caught up with him and rendered him helpless because of the love he had for his only son who was a respectable member of Port Royal's high society. Though Will was just a blacksmith he did have a highly regarded reputation for the swords he made, they were tremendously popular with the Royal Navy and he could hardly fill all the orders. Wasn't it ironic that the son of a pirate was good at forging swords for those who intended to hunt down pirates?

Jack reached the docks and paused for a minute to look affectionately at his ship; the Black Pearl was most definitely the prettiest ship in the harbour. Nevertheless it was odd to see her peacefully anchored next to merchant and naval vessels, especially here in Port Royal where pirates weren't welcome anymore since the villain Henri Morgan had been knighted. May his bones rot forever in Davy Jones' locker. It gave him a sense of satisfaction to know that Morgan's grave had been swallowed by the sea after the earthquake, the same earthquake that had made himself sort of a hero for the people of Port Royal simply because he hadn't taken advantage of their miserable situation then but had helped them. He had helped Norrington to reinstall law and order in a devastated town where everybody just had cared for themselves and not for others. It had been a stupid idea though. Well, Governor Swann had granted him clemency but clemency was just another word for armistice and nothing lasts forever. He'd never give up piracy for the opportunity to dine with the Governor on a regular basis. It had been a boring evening, a waste of time. Time he'd rather spend alone in his cabin, getting drunk and pondering about the injustices of life or- to be more precisely, love.

He walked up the gangway, patting the dark wooden rail with a deep sigh. At least one thing was still constant in his life and would remain so; the Pearl would never leave him voluntarily.

"Capt'n, …"

Jack almost stumbled over Marty when he headed for his cabin and he definitely wasn't in the mood to concern himself with one of his crew members now. After this enervating evening with the lovely and oh-so-perfect Turner family he simply longed for the solitude of his cabin.

"Get outta me way, midget," he barked ill-humoured, "I don't wanna be disturbed. So if ye've got nothing of importance to tell me ye better shut up or ye'll end up as a cannon ball savvy?"

With that he slammed shut the door of his cabin, grabbed a bottle of rum and sat down on his bed, gulping down a good amount of booze while impatiently kicking off his boots. One flew across the room and hit the wall but the other didn't want to come off that easily. Jack fidgeted with his leg in the air when a familiar voice said.

"Need some help, mate?"

Taken by surprise the pirate captain lost balance and landed on his back, the bottle of rum pressed securely to his chest. With narrowed eyes he looked at Bootstrap Bill Turner who kindly helped him to get off his second boot.

"What d'ye think ye're doing there, Mr Turner? I'm not an old dodderer desperately in need for someone to undress me and even then I'd rather prefer a pretty young maid instead of an ol' fart like ye."

"What a pity. And I thought I could enter your service as a maid."

"Sorry, can't imagine ye wearing a fancy dress although-" Jack shot him a sly grin, "ye looked kinda pretty in satin and frills tonight. What's next? A powdered wig?"

"Never." Bill sat down next to Jack and took the bottle from his hands.

"But ye have to steal away from the mansion in the midst of night just to get a decent sip of rum, ain't it so? Besides, I doubt good ol' Weatherby Swann would approve to the way ye're dressed now." Jack was referring to the fact that Bill was wearing plain clothes that already looked a bit worn out and more suitable for a pirate than for a member of a noble family; actually he looked more like Bootstrap Bill again.

"Well, there's no point in wearing fancy clothes if I just want to visit an old friend…"

"Now ye're hurting me."

"Alright then, next time I steal away from the mansion to visit an infamous scallywag I'll make sure to be dressed like a proper English gentleman." Bill chuckled but then he became more serious. "Anyway, I'm here 'cause I think we need to talk, I'm worrying about ye."

"'Bout me? Why? I'm fine. I'm as fine as I've been since we parted after dinner. Nothing's changed in the past hour or two."

"Jack, ye're everything but fine and ye know that. Do me a favour and don't lie to me. The man I observed this evening was not the Captain Jack Sparrow I know. Ye were unusually quiet…"

"I just didn't know what to tell Swann."

"Come on, ye've always been good at spinning a yarn but today ye played around with the peas on yer plate instead, so completely lost in thoughts that ye actually gave polite responses to Swann's stupid questions, and ye didn't even try to nick the silver. Don't try to fool me like ye fooled my son. Will might believe that Rowan's busy with 'issues' and not overly fond of little kids anyway, but I won't swallow a blatant lie. What's wrong with ye and Rowan? When did ye see her last? Am I right to assume that it was in Madras, almost a year and a half ago?"

"Fourteen months, two weeks and five days." Jack said quietly as he reached for the bottle; he needed some rum now. In fact he always needed a lot of rum when thinking about Rowan and he thought about her almost constantly. There were days when it didn't hurt that much but most of the time he missed her like hell.

When the Pearl had left Madras for the Caribbean he had told everyone that Rowan preferred not to come along with them, that she had sailed home to the island of Ko Samui. It hadn't been a lie because then he had still believed she would come back to him like she had promised. He had understood her urge for freedom, to see endless horizons- who else could understand that better than him? But when days turned into weeks turned into months it became obvious that she had apparently forgotten to return.

Bill let out a deep sigh. If Jack had been counting the days it was worse than he'd thought. He put a comforting hand on his friend's arm. "D'ye wanna talk about it?"

"Why?" Jack shrugged indifferently. "It had been sort of an experiment that had gone wrong and now I know for sure that love and pirates simply don't fit together. That's alright, I don't mind. After all, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Ah, of course. But tell me Jack, does it hurt less knowing ye're the one and only Captain Jack Sparrow?"

Jack remained silent for a while, secretly cursing Bill for figuring him out so perfectly and he knew he couldn't fool him any longer. Bill had always been quite good in looking behind the surface but nowadays his sense of perception was almost scary; he gazed at him and almost instantly read his thoughts. Confusing thoughts of unconditional love mingling with extreme frustration. Instead of trying to explain what was beyond his understanding he simply handed him Rowan's letter, the only thing he had left of her. He'd probably read it a thousand times but still wasn't any wiser, mayhap Bill could tell him what he'd done wrong.

"Hm," Bill scratched his forehead, trying to read between the lines, "it's understandable that she needed some time on her own…"

"I don't blame her for needing some time on her own but for not coming back to me. She's overstraining my patience."

"And ye've no idea where she is?"

"Hell, ye can read, can't ye? Don't follow me, don't come looking for me. Of course I accepted her decision- despite the common belief that I'm just an insensitive idiot."

Bill rolled his eyes and chose to ignore this last sentence. "Mayhap there's a reason she didn't come back yet…"

"Ye mean another guy?" Jack looked as if he was about to kill someone, anyone.

"No, I mean that possibly something happened to her- did ye ever consider that? Ye know Rowan, she always lands herself in trouble. In that respect she's so very much like ye."

"Oh no, she's not in trouble. I know that. She's cheerfully roaming the Asian seas, pilfering and plundering…"

"So ye **have **been looking for her?"

Jack flashed him an indignant, stubborn glance. "That I accepted her decision doesn't mean I don't care for her. I didn't look for her though, it's more like gathering information. I just want to know what she's doing."

"Sure." Bill studied the letter again. "She wrote that one reason for leaving was that ye'll always remember the sight of her in Shardul's torture chamber when looking at her- was she right about that? I was wondering myself what effects that would have…"

"Ye were wondering about my love life?"

"Don't fret, I'd never doubt yer potency, mate. But be honest- did that really have no affect on you at all? Would ye've been able to ignore the thought of that horrible room and continue as if nothing has happened, just back to normality?"

"Damned, no." Jack ran his fingers through his tangled hair before burying his head in his hands. "It definitely didn't arouse me if ye mean that, and besides I didn't wanna overtax her after Kalpitiya. I… well, aye, perhaps she was right. I had everything but screwing her in my mind and mayhap we really needed a break. It's said that absence makes the cock grow harder, ain't it?"

"Well actually it's absence makes the heart grow fonder but you definitely have a point," Bill grinned.

"What use is a fond heart when ye're slowly dying of sexual frustration? I'm just a man, I wasn't born to become a bloody monk. Yet I tried to be faithful 'cause I thought I owed that to Rowan after all she did for me."

"Lemme guess- ye failed?"

"Exactly." Jack raised his head to give his friend a wry smile. "In my opinion celibacy is something close to torture. I do have needs."

"Don't tell me, I know all about unsatisfied needs. I went to a whore once but me dear daughter-in-law found out… my, what a scene she made shrieking that I'm about to cause a scandal."

"Women," Jack immediately reached his bottle to Bill, who seemed to be dire need of a good sip or rum now.

"Aye."

They fell silent for a while, sharing the bottle of rum amongst them. Then Bill took up the subject again.

"Ye know, first I didn't mind that Elisabeth told Will about my oh-so-abnormal behaviour 'cause I thought he's man enough to understand me…"

"Nah, he's a bloody eunuch. Guess he's never been to a whore."

"My son's not a eunuch," Bill claimed firmly before he emptied the bottle and sent it crashing to the wall. "I've two spoiled grandchildren so he can't be a eunuch, savvy?"

"I didn't mean it literally." Jack got up to supply them with two more bottles or rum.

"I know what ye mean, Jack, and ye're damned right. My humbly-devoted-to-his-wife son was shocked when he learned that his dad is a depraved old lecher…"

"Hey, ye're not old, mate."

"Ta- that still leaves the depraved lecher..." Amused he clinked bottles with Jack. "To lecherous pirates!"

"To lecherous pirates!"

They gulped down a good amount of rum, apparently both trying to get drunk. Jack didn't mind. Actually he was quite glad that their conversation had changed its course because he didn't want to talk about Rowan, he didn't even want to think about her. It was definitely better to get drunk with a good friend instead.

Bill sighed heavily. "Anyway, ye won't believe the brilliant idea the kids have come up with lately. They want me to get married again."

"Oh no!"

"Yep. They think a marriage to a decent, preferably widowed lady would cure my ill manners. Man, ye've no idea how many widows there are in Port Royal- unfortunately they're all middle-aged, stiff to the bone and kinda prudish."

"Damned, who the hell these ungrateful brats think they are? Ye deserve better than that. No honest pirate should be punished with a prudish widow. "

"Ye're right. I won't put up with that. A toast to freedom!"

"To freedom!"

"But," after he'd taken a generous swig of rum Bill grinned at Jack, his eyes sparkling with malicious joy, "it's quite amusing taking these wanna-be Mrs Turners for a walk in the garden 'n then politely askin' them 'bout their sexual preferences or if they'd fancy a little shag in the roses…"

"Ye didn't do that!"

"Sure I did."

"Ah, ye're such a naughty scallywag, Mr Bootstrap Bill."

"Given that ye're the one who's sayin' that I take it as a compliment."

"'Twas meant to be one. To friendship!"

"To friendship!"

Jack wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulder and flashed him a conspiratorial smirking glance. "Now tell me, did ye get any of 'em laid?"

"NO." Bill grumbled frustrated. "Actually none of them was even worth the effort but in the hour of need ye don't ask for much and since the whores of Port Royal were a no-go for me-alas, the fine ladies ran away as if I was the personification of the devil himself and though it was a lotta fun to see them fret…"

"…ye're dying for a good screw." Jack helpfully finished the sentence.

"Aye."

Jack raised his bottle and said dreamily, "Tortuga."

"Tortuga?"

"Aye. There's no other place in the world where a man feels more wanted." Suddenly he was so fixed with the idea of going to Tortuga that he forgot that no whore had ever managed to satisfy him as completely as Rowan had done; he just didn't want to think about her now. He was slightly drunk, Bill was slightly drunk- they were both ready for mischief and for having some fun.

"Well then, let's go to Tortuga!" Bill cheerfully blurted out.

"A toast first. What has to be has to be. To Tortuga!"

They clinked bottles again, praising the infamous island with a good amount of rum flowing down their throats, and encouraged by the spirit of the booze they then stumbled to the deck, leaning on each other for support.

"All hands on deck! Hurry, ye scabby dogs! Weigh anchor! Set the sails! We're headin' for Tortuga!" Jack barked commands at his confused crew, which- except for the few men at guard- had been absolutely unprepared for any rash actions of their mad captain. Nevertheless they obeyed immediately and within minutes the Pearl was ready to sail.

Contented with the efforts of his crew Jack turned to face Bill again, his hand still on his friend's shoulder. "Alright, mate, consider yerself as invited to enjoy the pleasures only Tortuga has to give…

"Ye're a generous man, Jack."

"Nah, " the pirate captain shook his head and fervently wagged his index finger in front of Bill's eyes, "I just want to make sure ye forget 'bout yer way too dominant daughter-in-law as well as I wanna forget 'bout me runaway lover, savvy? Now, do we have an accord?"


	10. The Quandary of Treasure Joe

chapter 10- The Quandary of Treasure Joe

_Tortuga, some days later_

Jack awoke with a killer headache, not knowing where he was. Carefully he opened an eye and wished he hadn't because the bright sunshine that fell into the shabby looking room was a torment for his sore eyes. With a grunt he turned away, hiding from the nasty light, when he noticed that he wasn't alone in the bed- wherever that bed was. His hands touched naked flesh, female flesh, the soft curving of a breast. Though that was definitely not an unpleasant feeling it made him feel strangely sick. He shrunk back from the unknown woman and fell off the bed. Now he was wide awake.

It was Madame Claudine's etablissement he was in, and he vaguely remembered that he had paid for two girls to stay the whole night, only that he hadn't enjoyed their company half as much as Bill had. He'd left his friend with the two doxies and gone drinking instead, drowning his memories in expensive cheap red wine. It hadn't helped much though, he still felt miserable. Bill however must have had the time of his life, at least he looked like that the way he lay on his back, snorting contently, the girls snuggled close to his sides in a mess of entangled limbs. That also explained why he'd fallen off bed- it simply wasn't big enough for four people.

While he wondered why he'd come back here anyway- he'd probably been much too drunk to care if he'd disturb- the girl next to him opened her eyes and actually fluttered her lashes at him the same instant.

"Oh Jacques, cherie, why did you leave me last night? Don't you like your Michelle anymore? I wanted to make love to you, cherie." She purred in a badly imitated French accent as she stretched out lasciviously.

His Michelle? Had he missed something? As far as he knew he'd only met the bitch yesterday and though she was quite pretty her well calculated affection had immediately turned him off. He'd wanted a fuck and not to pretend they were making love. Now this impertinent person reached out to touch him, bending closer to eventually nibble at his earlobe, whispering in a voice that she mistook for sounding passionately. "Oh cherie, I want you so much. Come back to bed. It only costs you five shillings and you can do with me whatever you want…"

What he wanted was to slap her but unfortunately she was a woman and he'd sworn never to beat a woman, so he just pushed her away, disgusted. What he wanted was a real woman, not one he had to pay for, not a whore. He wanted honest affection and not a faked one caused by the jingling coins in his purse. How could he had ever been so undemanding to be satisfied with something like that? He had to get away from here.

Jack jumped to his feet, completely ignoring the moaning Michelle because she was merely moaning about the money that just had slipped through her naughty little fingers and he definitely had other problems. For instance, the spinning room. It took him a few moments to overcome his dizziness and to adjust his aching head to the cruelty of a bright sunny morning but then he was ready to leave. He was almost out the door when he abruptly froze to his tracks, wondering what it was that he had forgotten. He turned around, scratching his chin.

"Bill!" He shouted in sudden realisation. "BILL! Now get up yer lazy arse! We're leaving!"

But his friend just stirred to bury his head in the valley of the other girl's breasts- Jeanne, Jeanette, Janine or whatever her name was. Then he grumbled, "Stop shoutin' at me, I can hear ye clearly."

"Ah, that's good, ain't it? So ye might 've noticed that I wanna leave now, aye?"

"Go ahead but gimme just a few more seconds in paradise…"

"Well then, ye know where to find me," Jack hissed impatiently as he turned on his heels and slammed shut the door behind him. He headed for the docks, back to the Black Pearl. After all, she was the only one who'd never let him down. She had been taken way from him but she'd never left him voluntarily. She was the only place in this mad and unjust world where he could feel at least partly at peace with himself and all the memories that were haunting him, memories of a love he had lost though he still didn't know why everything had turned out so fucking wrong. What the hell had gone wrong between them?

Bill immediately sobered up after Jack had left slamming the door behind him. He sat up with a sigh. It was a tempting idea to stay in bed with two pretty girls but it was not his definition of friendship to let a friend pay for his fun and then let him down when he needed him. And Jack needed him badly although he was probably not aware of it. Of course not, the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow never needed anybody and he also wasn't the man who poured out his heart. No, instead he choked on unspoken emotions.

Bill gathered his clothes, silently cursing himself for having started with his own problems when Jack had been close to opening his heart to him that evening in Port Royal. It came to his mind that this trip to Tortuga had only been an illusion; they couldn't run away from trouble and hope that would solve any problems. They had only been put to a brief halt and- in Jack's case- perhaps not even that.

He didn't want to think of the trouble awaiting him back home because he had left without a word. Well, he had shouted to one of the soldiers in the harbour that he was going on a short trip with Jack and after all, he was a free man… no, he wasn't. Ever since he'd come to Port Royal and the Governor's mansion he'd become more and more entrapped in a network of social rules and their restrictions, a lot of restrictions. Actually he hadn't expected that to happen when he'd finally met his son again. But Will wasn't to blame; he was a good boy, a good husband to his beloved wife and a good father to his kids- he definitely was a better father than he himself had ever been. Will also was a good- a brilliant- blacksmith, a hard working man who hadn't gained his reputation just because he was the Governor's son-in-law.

No, Will was unquestionably not to blame for his inability to become a respectable member of Port Royal's society. There were many reasons why he was spoiled for that sort of life, starting with the events that had made him leave his family all those years ago to the fact that deep in his heart he was a pirate. He was no gentlemen, never had been, and he simply didn't want to be part of a society that was rotten to the core. It was the bloody sense of entitlement and the way justice could be bent for those with money and power. The way it had been bent for him. Once he had been condemned for a crime he hadn't committed and now Governor Swann had granted him clemency for his piracy although he had no regrets. The hypocritical rich pack didn't even mind him being a 'former' pirate- they considered that as interesting- but they took the years he'd spent in a Buddhist monastery badly, and there was no clemency for that. He couldn't care less. Actually he sometimes longed to be back in the monastery, missing its peaceful and serene atmosphere, but most of all he longed for… no, he should forget about that, and fortunately Mr Gibbs spared him any further thoughts heading in **that **direction by towering up in front of him as he boarded the Black Pearl. He made it unmistakably clear who was the first in command aboard the pirate vessel- next to her captain, of course.

"The Captain said he doesn't wanna be disturbed."

Bill wanted to interject that that possibly didn't go for him but then he became aware of what was really bothering Gibbs, why he had eyed him with mistrust from the very first day they'd met- the man was scared of losing his position because of him, Jack's former first mate. But that would never happen. Jack had made a good choice with Gibbs, although he sometimes was a tad too superstitious and narrow-minded for his liking. Nevertheless he was a damned good sailor and an absolutely loyal man, exactly what Jack needed. So instead of unceremoniously shooing him out of the way, Bill put a placatory hand on Gibbs' shoulder.

"Alright mate, lemme make things clear between us. I'm not here 'cause I want yer job, savvy? Yer the Pearl's first mate and I'm merely a passenger. And since we've cleared that now, please lemme pass. I wanna see Jack. "

Gibbs gave way with a shrug. "Just as ye like but be warned; he's not in a very good mood."

"Aye, that's why I wanna see him."

"If ye ask me- I know who's to blame for that. He still can't forget that red haired witch though he should be glad he's rid of her. It's frightful bad luck having a woman aboard and a red head even doubles that. I'm sure she's bewitched him."

Bill arched a brow at him. "Ta, Mr Gibbs, but I don't ask ye. Ye mistake witchcraft with love and though both can be quite scary ye're wrong there. Rowan Scarlett is definitely not a witch therefore Jack's definitely not bewitched, he's just… unwell and needs someone to talk to."

Gibbs, who had just turned around to take a surreptitious quick swig from his flask, coughed and cleared his throat. "Well then, good luck Mr Turner. I hope ye know that Jack plays it close to the vest when it comes to talking 'bout himself- except for spreading all the rumours that had gained him his infamous reputation, of course."

"Rumours?" Now Bill cracked a broad smile. "There are no rumours, mate, there's only truth."

Then he finally entered Jack's cabin.

The pirate captain lay stretched out on his bed and was staring holes in the ceiling while his thoughts were probably somewhere down the bilge.

"Do I disturb ye?"

Jack stirred to make room for his friend so apparently he didn't mind being disturbed but he also didn't seem to be in the mood to talk. Of course not; Bill had surely not expected him to start off a conversation about what's troubling him and since it was wiser not to put pressure on him he just lay down too and waited for Jack to make the first move. In silence they watched golden rays of sunlight dancing across the dark wooden ceiling in perfect rhythm with the soft rocking of the sea, and together with the subdued sound of waves caressing the Pearl's hull it had an almost meditative effect, like a lullaby for pirates. Bill was already at the edge of sleep when Jack's quiet voice startled him.

"Sorry for being such a spoilsport, mate. I dragged ye away from home, from yer family, to have a fun trip to Tortuga and then I was everything but fun. Don't tell my crew."

"Hmm…" Bill replied dozily as he opened his eyes again, gazing at Jack, "ye fear for yer reputation? Don't worry, I won't give away the man who paid for me to have fun. By the way, thanks for all."

"So ye had fun? Good to know. I almost thought so when I saw ye in bed with the two naked ladies."

He should have had the decency to be embarrassed or at least blush a little, but Bill failed in all of that. Instead he felt deeply satisfied and didn't even care to justify himself. Also there was no need for any justifications, not with Jack, and that was a damned good feeling. He only wished his friend would have had half as much fun as he had.

"I would have shared 'em with ye..."

"Yep, but I wasn't in the mood." Jack interrupted, then he fell silent for a moment before he admitted. "Well, actually I had been in the mood for a good screw- just not with them; their faked French accent simply insulted me ears. Fortunately I bumped into an old friend of mine after I left ye last night- remember Giselle? We had a quick encounter in an alleyway, so don't worry 'bout me. I'm fine."

"Ye're not."

"Right. Me head's about to explode."

"Ye've a hangover."

"Nah, someone must have poisoned the last glass of wine."

"Poisoned?" Bill chuckled. "Sure, the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow can't possibly suffer from a hangover. I'm surprised you're drinking wine though."

"'Twas a mistake, no use to remind me. Bloody heartbreak wine."

"Ah, so it's Rowan… did ye try and find her in a bottle of wine?"

"Bloody hell," Jack let out a heavy sigh, "aye. No wine tastes like her. No wine smells like her. No wine can match with the colour of her hair in the candlelight, the way it was spread out on the sheets or flowing in cascades of red around her shoulders when we made love. And no wine can fill me so completely like she did. Once I believed the Pearl was all I needed for she meant freedom but now I know there's no freedom without a safe harbour. She was that safe harbour, the compass that set the course of me heart, the salt of the seas. Now I feel as if I'm directionless sailing down oceans of broken dreams. Ye know, when the Pearl was taken from me I always knew I'd get her back one day, all I had to do was to wait for the opportune moment. I was patient because a ship won't change; it always has a keel and a hull, some masts and sails. But now my patience is wearing thin because people **do** change, feelings change. Take me for example, I never believed there'd ever be room for love in my black pirate heart and I now I lie here whining."

"Ye're not whining, Jack, ye're just telling me what's on yer mind, what troubles you. And I'm glad ye're telling me."

"But ye won't go bursting out that Captain Jack Sparrow behaves like a lovesick fool because his bonny lass has forgotten to come back to him like she promised?"

"Guess ye know me better than that or ye wouldn't have told me how ye feel, ain't it so?"

Jack merely nodded. It was strange but he trusted Bill although 'trust' had been a word he'd erased from his vocabulary a long time ago- living through a mutiny and being marooned on a godforsaken island can do that to a man.

"Jack, why don't ye try to find her…"

Immediately Jack cut him short. "I can't! I'd sail to hell and back to find her but she asked me not to come looking for her, remember? She also wrote that she'd come back when she thinks the time's right and obviously it's not the right time yet. I can't force her, I can't force love. I'm not like Shardul- may he rot in hell- I prefer women coming to me voluntarily and staying at free will."

"Well, probably ye're right- Rowan's definitely not the kind of woman who'd approve of being put under pressure." Bill agreed though he did wonder why she hadn't come back to Jack yet; he knew she loved him, they were the perfect match. But well, women were hard to predict and a female pirate was no exception.

"Damned, she's gotten under me skin like no other woman before. Sometimes my dreams about her are so lifelike that I wake up in the middle of the night and reach out for her, fooled by my imagination or the idea of her scent still lingering on the sheets, but of course she's not there. She's gone and left me spoiled for any other women. The doxies in all ports of the world taste stale in comparison to her and I really hate it when they try to stick their tongues down me throat since their kisses taste of too much powder, lipstick and cheap booze. They don't kiss like Rowan, no one does. There's no affection, only calculation and the eying at the coins in me purse. Nevertheless they have the nerve to promise heaven to a man when all ye get is a mediocre relief, just enough to satisfy yer most urgent needs. Now don't get me wrong, Bill, it's not only lust that makes me miss her- although I definitely lust for her; she should've never worried about that. 'Twas merely a week after she left me for that finding-herself-trip of hers and I almost thought I'd die of sexual frustration, and yet it's so much more I miss. So many little things, like the way she walks and talks, running her fingers through her hair, or how she laughs at me, laughing about me, saying _ye're much too full of yerself, Jack_. It's the way she looks at me and reads my heart, and still loves me. Ye know, I fucked up so many things in my life but with her I thought everything was perfect, I just don't know what went so damned wrong. I feel so numb without her and then I try to fill the emptiness with whoring like I did before I met her but that only leaves me feeling even more miserable because I think I'm betraying her, and then I get angry because if she'd be here with me I wouldn't need to betray her."

"Hm, I don't think Rowan expects ye to live like a monk, she can tell sex from love. And ye better be aware of that she's definitely no nun. Whatever has gotten into her head that keeps her away from ye, there will be times when she feels lonely and then she'll take what she can get."

Jack's jaw tightened. He didn't want to hear that nevertheless Bill was damned right- he remembered one stormy night aboard the Jewel when he'd thought he'd finally won her with his irresistible charm while she had just lusted for a man and he'd been available; she was like that. Bloody bitch, he just hoped she'd feel really miserable after screwing around with other men, they couldn't match with him anyway.

"Sorry, Jack, but I had to tell ye." Bill said softly. "Ye know I know her quite well, and…"

Jack sat up with a start and winced almost the same moment as his aching head reminded him that quick movements weren't the wisest thing to do. But something in Bill's voice had startled him so he arched a quizzical brow at his friend.

"Ye just made me wonder how well it is exactly that ye know her."

When Bill blushed to the colour of a ripe tomato and lowered his eyes, Jack knew he had guessed right. "Ah, now that's very interesting, ain't it?"

"It's not what you think." Bill's cheeks were back to their normal colour again when he sat up too so that he could face Jack. He didn't feel ashamed, he had never meant to keep it a secret that he'd been in bed with Rowan once but of course he hadn't been keen to tell Jack either. "'Twas way back in '85 or so, after our stay in Madras. We were both chasing the dragon to make things easier to forget; she about Tyag, and I about Claire and me little boy I believed dead. We were drunk and drugged, feeling lonely, so it just happened. It didn't mean a thing to us but comfort; we both agreed on that. So there's no use to make a fuss about it now, ye didn't even knew her then."

"Well, actually I don't give a damn- after all, she isn't a nun, aye?" Jack shrugged indifferently and pretended not to be bothered about his friend having had a thing with his woman. He got up from the bed and headed for the door. "Anyway, mate, feel free to make yerself comfortable but please excuse me now. I gotta ship to take care of."

Bill withstood his urge to follow Jack in order to clear what's wrong between them and lay down on the bed again; there was no use trying to talk things over now. Perhaps it was for the best to give his friend a day at the helm so that a fresh breeze could blow away whatever was nagging at him. It definitely hadn't been the most opportune moment to tell him about his one-night stand with Rowan when he was already wound so tight because of her anyway, but on the other hand he'd sworn never to lie to Jack again. The last time he'd done so by acquiescing to Santiago's wish had only led to a devastating disaster, starting with a mutiny.

"All hands on deck!"

The call reached Bill's ears from a very far distance as if it was trying to get through walls of cotton that had lulled his mind; he wasn't in the realm of dreams though, merely sunken in meditation. So he came to his senses quite quickly again, feeling mentally and physically refreshed. Perhaps he should teach Jack the purifying effects meditation could have on one's soul, he thought as he headed for the deck to see what's going on.

It was already late afternoon and the sun was low; its aureole almost blurred with the now pale blue sky, spreading a dazzling, silver-golden light across the sea and crowning the waves with pearly foam. The black sails of the Pearl appeared even darker in this light. They were fully braced when Bill boarded the deck but flapped against the masts only a minute later. Apparently Jack had given orders to change the course.

The fount of spray at the bow, sparkling like millions of tiny diamonds, ceased like dying fireflies as soon as the wind was taken off the sails. Bill heard Jack barking orders at his crew.

"Ready for starboard tack! Hurry up ye scabrous dogs, bring about the yards! Haul! Reef the sails but keep her by the wind!"

The Pearl changed tack towards the setting sun and Jack raised the telescope to his eye again, scanning the horizon. "Open the portholes! Run out the guns!"

"Is there trouble ahead or are ye just after a promising ship to loot?" Bill asked as he came up the stairs to the afterdeck to join his friend.

The pirate captain shot him a cross glance as if he was the trouble but then he shrugged and handed him the telescope. "Well, tell me what you think Mr Turner."

Bill shielded his eyes; even without a telescope he could see now what had gained Jack's attention- it was the dark silhouette of a ship, a galleon. She was drifting languidly with the current, sails set but not braced so they were flapping uselessly in the breeze. He aimed the telescope at her to have a closer look and noticed signs of a battle although she wasn't badly damaged, and there seemed to be no one aboard.

"I think that someone has beaten you to it, Jack. There are many pirates sailing these waters."

"Ah, open yer eyes. She's too much draught to have already been plundered. Whoever had attacked her had had no interest in her cargo and neither do I."

"So what", Bill broke off when suddenly the rotting stench of decay was swept over by the wind and he gasped with disgust, "Blast! She's a bloody slaver."

"Aye. And now tell me who'd be so daft to try and seize a slaver? Ye can smell them ten miles against the wind, also there'd be no profit in it for any pirate. No, there's something damn wrong with that ship and I wanna find out what it is; I'm curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat, Jack. Don't get me wrong, but this might be a trap."

"A trap?" Jack sneered, "Who'd try to trap a pirate with a slaver?"

Bill shrugged and had to admit that Jack was probably right. Nevertheless he was feeling uneasy. "I don't like that," he murmured.

"No decent pirate should like a slaver, and there are too many of them nowadays. Ye know, ye spot a promising vessel, sail closer, ready to commandeer it- and them ye notice the reek of a slaver. That's bloody disappointing. Where are all the pretty Spanish treasure ships gone?" Jack seemed to be casual but deep inside even the thought of slavers made him shudder; he was a freedom-loving man and as such he detested slavery from the bottom of his heart. No one should have to endure such a cruel fate.

He had never been aboard a slaver, so when he crossed over to that ship in a longboat he still hoped he could possibly save a few survivors. Unfortunately he had to give up his hopes as soon as he boarded her. A battle had taken place here- or, to be more precisely, a massacre. Everyone had been slaughtered, the whole crew, and though Jack didn't give a damn about the crew of a bloody slaver he was yet well aware of the fact that no plain sailor could afford to chose the ship he was sailing on; there was no use to condemn those who had to struggle hard to make their living. But why had they been killed? To him it didn't appear as an act of frustration because the attackers were disappointed about merely having seized a slaver- no, there must be more to it than that. There was every reason to believe that whoever had attacked the ship had tried to cover his true intentions by making it appear as a random attack, leaving no survivors to prove them wrong. Now, that was interesting. So if they hadn't been out to take the cargo- very unlikely- what had they been up to instead? Jack scratched his head and went to inspect the hold.

Nothing, not even his worst imaginations could have ever prepared him for what he had to witness in the hold of the slaver. He'd expected to see the 'freight' crammed in there but reality exceeded even his worst expectations. He saw naked bodies of men and women in chains, their heads shaved, their dark skin paled to an unhealthy shade. They were undernourished, the lines of their ribs clearly visible, their bodies marred with scars and pustules. The stench almost took his breath away, it reeked of excrements, vomit, and death. They were dead; dead eyes stared at him from faces bereft of all hope. His stomach cringed and he tasted bitter bile in his mouth. But worse, far worse than the stench was the nearly inaudible whimpering sound that came from somewhere. The idea that there might be someone still alive amongst all the dead bodies sent a cold shiver down his spine. Jack headed in the direction from which the sound had come and spotted the gaunt body of a man covered with festering pustules; he seemed to be in a serious condition but nevertheless he was alive. The pirate looked for water, the man needed water…

"Jack! Get away!" Bill yelled, and then a shot rang through the hold.

Jack turned around and stared in disbelief at the smoking pistol in Bill's hand. "Ye killed him! Why the bloody hell did ye kill him? We could have"

"NO!" Bill cut him short but Jack was not in the mood for reasoning.

"Ye bloody murderer!" He cried out as he flung himself at his friend to vent his frustration on him; it was a good feeling when his fist collided with Bill's jaw. But Bill had seen it coming so he quickly clutched him tightly to avoid any further stupid attacks. Both struggling to get the upper hand over the other they made their way out of the hold and bumped into a wall. Bill gave Jack a good shaking.

"Listen mate," he said breathing heavily, "I. Am. Not. A. Murderer. Savvy? If there'd be any chance to save any of them I would have done so but there is NO cure for smallpox. The man would have died anyway. All I could do was give him a mercy killing. Or would ye've preferred to see him suffering longer AND taken the risk that yer crew gets infected with smallpox just because ye had a soft moment?"

Jack slumped visibly. Then he punched the wall behind him with his fist. "Damned! That's not fair!"

"Aye, life's never fair." Bill cracked a wry smile but that faded very soon. "Jack, ye know I'm not a cruel man but I had to do that. I feared ye'd touch him and," he broke off with a sigh, ran his fingers through his hair, and cleared his throat, "Anyway, though I might seem to be a monster now because I unceremoniously shot the sole living being aboard this ship, I'm nevertheless not half as cruel as the crew of this slaver had been since they had given up their cargo when they found out that smallpox was rife among the slaves. So they just closed the doors of the hold and left 'em to their fate. I found the log, Jack; it's all stated in there. Apparently the captain of this bloody vessel had decided that the lives of his crew were more valuable than his cargo so he'd given orders not to enter the hold. He'd willingly condemned them to die of hunger and thirst if the disease didn't kill them first."

"I feel sick." Jack pushed Bill aside and rushed up to the deck in order to inhale some fresh air, but the stench of death was everywhere on this damned ship. He slipped on the spilled blood that covered the planks, almost losing his balance when he fortunately got hold of a helpful arm and clung to it. Perhaps that didn't look very graceful yet it was definitely better than falling flat on his face. With a nod he thanked Silvers for his support when suddenly he noticed that Bill had followed him outside and was puking over the rail now. Somehow it was comforting to know that he wasn't the only one who'd lost his cool although he got enough of a grip on himself not to show it.

"Ye alright, Mr Turner?" He asked casually, trying to sound as full of himself as if he had not witnessed any horrors in the hold. After all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow; he would NOT allow these images to haunt him.

"Ta." Bill turned around, wiping his mouth. He flashed Jack a faint smile but then his eyes widened when his gaze drifted from his friend to a dead body that lay on the planks, and he gasped, "Blast, isn't that Treasure Joe?"

"Damned, ye're right, it's him!" Jack retorted surprised as he hurried to take a closer look at the man, pondering, "Now that's really interesting. What was he doing aboard a slaver?"

"Well, he'd work for anyone as long as he got properly paid for it."

"No, he didn't work aboard this bloody ship. Look at his clothes; they're not the clothes of a plain sailor."

Bill shrugged. "Probably he was the in the slave trade. He never cared who paid him since his only loyalty was gold; he might have considered slaves as black gold. However, I'm almost sure the attack happened because of him. Treasure Joe always had more foes than friends due to his special talent for trimming his sails to the wind, and there are many people who were extremely pissed off of him. Perhaps someone had a really bad grudge against him- at least that would explain why he looks so badly beaten and bruised."

"Ah, ye absolutely have no idea." Jack snorted contemptuously as he spread out his arms, wildly gesticulating at the scenery. "Ye think THAT happened because someone had a grudge against Treasure Joe? Use yer head, Mr Turner- mayhap all that meditating isn't doing ye any good- does that really look like a personal vendetta against a single person? Why attack a ship and slaughter the whole crew when it would be much easier to lie in wait for him in a dark alleyway to pick a bone with him then? No, there's something fishy 'bout it…"

Jack knew he was right because he'd known Treasure Joe for a long time, even before he'd been called Treasure Joe. And though his fascination with treasures really was legendary, he hadn't been as bad as Bill made him out to be. After all, it wasn't the idea of immense wealth that had kept him going but a more profound, almost scientific interest in the quest for hidden treasures. He'd been more bookworm than adventurer; he'd loved to study old books or scripts in order to solve the riddle of a lost treasure and then, only then, he'd sold his knowledge to the highest bidder. Nothing wrong with that. Of course it was offending for a pirate to be outbid by another one or for a Brit when a Spaniard offered more and vice versa, but that didn't necessarily mean that Joe had trimmed his sails to the wind; no, he'd just wanted to make his living. So perhaps the reason for this attack was that Treasure Joe had found out something of significant interest, something that someone would kill for- like happened- and to cover up the rough interrogation said someone had had with Joe he'd then given orders to murder each and every witness aboard- very likely.

"Whatever he tried to keep secret, he hadn't been willing to give it away voluntarily so he had to pay for it." Jack mused aloud while still staring at the dead body of Treasure Joe. He'd been beaten and tortured, and when they- whoever _they _were- had run out of methods of getting somebody to talk they had unceremoniously cut off his tongue and made him swallow it until he'd chocked on it. What an unpleasant death. Nevertheless Jack was quite sure that it had happened just as, and given that all signs were to be believed… well, there was no reason not to believe his own eyes.

"Anyway, he'd been the one who'd told Barbossa about the treasures of Isla de Muerta and"

"So what?" Jack snapped, cutting Bill short. "He's not the one to blame for the mutiny."

"Aye, neither am I, and there's also no use to be angry at me because of Rowan, so please stop bitching at me." Bill said mildly.

"She's got nothing to do with Treasure Joe."

"No, but it's still eating ye, that's why ye're so bitchy with me. If it makes ye feel better punch me again and then forget about it."

For a moment Jack looked as if he was tempted to strike out, he clenched his fists and shot Bill a dark glance of mixed emotions. Their eyes locked but it was Jack who turned away first, shrugging.

"Anyway, I happen to know Treasure Joe longer, and probably I'm the only one who still remembers that he used to be called Gammy Leg Joe once," he took a dagger from his sash and began to cut open Joe's left boot. "The reason why he was called Gammy Leg is that one of his legs is a tad shorter than the other but-" With a triumphant grip he held up the boot as if it was a valuable trophy. "then he found himself a clever cobbler who made him the perfect pair of boots, and he wasn't limping anymore. By the way, we can leave now."

Jack staggered off and barked at Silvers to take him back to the Black Pearl. Bill just rolled his eyes.

Aboard the Pearl Jack gave orders to blow a hole in the slaver and sink her. While most of the pirates scurried to immediately obey, one man grumbled morosely. "Blast, ne'er met a pirate capt'n as daft as him. Came back with nothing but a bloody ol' boot 'n now he expects us to sink a perfectly seaworthy ship. We should have our say in that."

Jack, who had already been on his way to the helm, froze in his tracks and turned around with a sway that was a tad to heavy for the swell, causing the beads in his hair to jingle. He pointed an accusing finger at the man. "I heard that, Mr Dawson..."

"Dobson, Capt'n." Perhaps the guy corrected him more out of reflex since Jack never got his name right, but at least he had the decency to blush.

"So ye wanna have a say in that Mr _Dawson_? Well what say ye to that? Go 'n feel free to claim the slaver yers. I give it to ye. But if ye get infected with smallpox don't come back whining 'cause I hate the sight of festering pustules, savvy?" Jack raised his voice so that everyone aboard could hear him. "Is there anyone else who wants to accompany Mr _Dawson_ to his pretty new boat and enjoy the company of the dead?"

The pirate captain grinned slyly when no one accepted his generous offer so he turned to address Dobson again. "I'm terribly sorry but it seems to me ye have to go all on yer onesies. Well, given that yer such an able-bodied sailor that should be no problem for ye, should it?"

Dobson looked scared shitless now. "Please don't maroon me, Captain Sparrow. I swear I didn't meant it the way it might have sounded, Capt'n. I was just wondering aloud, honestly Captain, Sir."

"Alright then, for the next two days ye can wonder aloud in the brig if yer Captain's daft because he's not seizing a ship contaminated with smallpox. Mr Cotton! Would ye please be so kind and accompany Mr Dawson to the brig."

"Wind in yer sails!" Parrot screeched cheerfully.

Jack's face remained absolutely unfathomable when Dobson actually thanked him for his mercy, then he barked orders to his crew to finally blow the damned slaver so they could continue their voyage to Port Royal. The guns were ready to be fired when suddenly the watch in the crow's nest shouted. "Ship ho!"

It was a British man-o-war and it was approaching fast, Jack noticed. He cursed silently; he was definitely **not** in the mood to deal with the Royal Navy now.

"Bloody hell! Gunners! Give her a warning shot!"

The cannons of the Pearl went off with a loud bang but that didn't seem to impress the Royal Navy guys since they fired back.

"Weigh anchor! Brace the sails!" Jack shouted as he hurried to take over the helm. The sun was almost down so they could easily escape the Navy in the dark of night. He wasn't keen on fighting them- also it didn't seem to be appropriate to sink an English ship when they were on their way to Port Royal in order to meet the family of the Governor- so he just gave orders to damage the vessel. "Open fire! Ten shillings for the one who brings down her main mast!"

Marty succeeded- he was a very good gunner although he almost the size to be used as cannon fodder, like Jack was always joking. Then the Black Pearl gained speed and vanished from under the eyes of the Royal Navy soon after, her black sails simply melted with the velvet darkness of the Caribbean night.

* * *

Reviews are always welcome, they help me through long nights and never enough sleep.  



	11. a virgin whore and the Virgin Mary

Chapter 11- a virgin whore and the Virgin Mary

_Port Royal_

Bill frowned when he noticed the bustling activity at the governor's mansion. The house was decorated for some festivity, servants hurried to and fro, a stream of suppliers arrived; some came on foot, carrying baskets full of fruit from nearby plantations, while others brought up carts loaded with barrels of fine liquors. It dawned on him that he'd almost missed Governor Swann's birthday party. Fortunately he had returned to Port Royal just in time because otherwise he'd be even more in trouble than he was already. No doubt Elisabeth would give him a good verbal bashing for running away- blast, he did **not** owe his lovely daughter-in-law an explanation for each and every step he took. He was a free man and sneaking in the mansion through the service entrance was his free will; he was not trying to avoid meeting Elisabeth. He just hoped for the chance to steal some fresh pastries from the kitchen before having to face her.

"Ye should've told me we're gonna have a party today 'cause then I could have plundered a nice little merchant. Now I'm here without a present for good ol' Weatherby Swann and that's kinda embarrassing." Jack complained.

Bill didn't know why Jack had insisted on accompanying him to the governor's mansion given that he had been quite bitchy all the way to Port Royal; he could have easily sailed away after dropping him at the docks. Maybe staying at his side despite the prospect of a good scolding by an infuriated Elisabeth was his very own way of saying sorry for being such an ass recently although he'd never apologize officially, let alone admit that he was a stubborn idiot. Bill flashed him a tolerant smile.

"Well, I think the fact that ye didn't plunder a merchant is enough of a present for him. Swann still believes ye've become an honest man."

"Me?" Jack chuckled as he nicked a piece of oven-fresh pastry from a tray and when one of the kitchen helps tried to slap his greedy fingers he cheerfully pinched her butt. "Well, honestly I'm a…"

"You are without doubt the most notorious scallywag I ever met, Jack Sparrow," the snappy voice of Elisabeth interrupted him. She stood at the kitchen door with her hands on her hips while her sharp eyes scanned the two pirates from head to toe. Apparently they were alright and that infuriated her. She turned her gaze from Jack to Bill. "By the way, same goes for you, Bill Turner, only that I expected **you** to be more reliable. How could you just cut off with Jack?"

_I got drunk and then we sailed away_, Bill thought sarcastically but that he couldn't tell the dragon his lovely daughter-in-law was. It really surprised him though when Jack admitted, "It's all me fault, Lizzie. I sort of abducted him."

Elisabeth shot the pirate a scornful look before she addressed Bill again. "We were worrying about you."

"I'm sorry. That definitely wasn't my intention."

"Ha! You always say that and yet your words have no meaning because actually you don't care at all, you don't care about us. You are selfish and egoistical. My father was so generous to grant you clemency but all you ever did to thank him was cause scandals at every opportunity. Of course that was never your intention. You didn't mean to bring our family into disrepute with your stubborn refusal to join us for church on Sundays and yet you're not willing to change your ways. You have absolutely no sense of propriety!"

"No," Bill shrugged indifferently, "apparently not." And he couldn't care less.

"Well, it seems you aren't concerned about your reputation or that half of Port Royal considers you as heathen- but did you ever spare a thought on the effects your shameless misbehaviour inflicts upon your grandchildren? No, you never waste a thought on Lydia and little Willy but when Captain Jack Sparrow comes along he merely has to snap his dirty fingers and you jump. Shame on you, Bill Turner!"

"Alright lass, that's enough now. Talk like that to your father or your husband but not to me." Though Bill remained calm there was a dangerously sharp edge in his voice and Elisabeth got the warning. She tsked indignantly, she pouted, but she didn't try any longer to teach manners to an ungrateful pirate. With her head held high she pushed past Bill, turning up her nose at him.

"Do me a favour and take a bath before our guests arrive. You reek of depraved lust. And you," she pointed a scolding finger at Jack, "wipe that stupid grin off your face."

But Jack had long stopped grinning; his face had gone blank and he gave her a very dark glance, growling. "Ye know nothing about that…"

"And I certainly do not wish to know anything about it. It's bad enough that the grandfather of my children is an old lecher so there's no use going into details; I am not interested." Elisabeth snapped as she headed for the door, pretending to be too busy to care about the two pirates in her kitchen any longer.

Jack snorted contemptuously but Bill knew they had been talking at cross purposes. Jack had been referring to the horrors of Kalpitiya, the true meaning of depraved lust, while Elisabeth probably considered all sexual activities outside the marital bedroom as depraved.

"Seems to me ye're still a tough guy, Bill." Jack said then and he gave his friend a wry smile, snapping his fingers. "Ye didn't crouch at her feet and," he snapped again, "you don't jump when I snap my fingers."

Bill laughed. "No, ye won't see that."

"But ye **are **aware that she'll be running to Will now and complain 'bout ye."

"Couldn't care less. I told her she could talk like that to him so let him get all her shouting." Bill shrugged indifferently, then he turned around and charmed the kitchen help to get him two pitchers of cold beer. He handed one to Jack and emptied half of his own pitcher in a thirsty gulp before he continued. "Don't get me wrong, I **do** like women who speak up their mind and that's why I liked Elisabeth first- well, actually I still like her, if only she'd leave me alone. Ye know, I don't criticize the way she lives so I expect her to tolerate mine and the years in the Buddhist monastery are a part of my life, a very important one indeed. Damned, I'm not a savage because of that- quite the contrary- and I don't need to be domesticated."

That moment a servant entered the kitchen, bowed to Bill, and dignifiedly declared that the bath was ready, Sir.

"Alright then, let's take a bath! Do any of ye charming ladies wanna scrub me back?" Jack blurted out, causing the kitchen help to giggle bashfully. Unfortunately Bill dragged him away before any of them could give him an answer.

"If there's one thing I definitely **don't** need now then it's you screwing one of the dragon's servants under her very own roof, savvy? Besides, what're ye still doing here anyway? For me there are only boring duties waiting, like meeting some more prudish widows of Port Royal's upper class, but for you the Pearl's waiting. Ye can sail away from here."

"Hey, there's gonna be a party tonight. D'ye really think I'd miss that when my name's on the guest list and drinks are all free just because I failed to get a present for good ol' Weatherby?"

Bill sighed. "So ye're really keen on taking a bath and getting tarted up with fancy clothes?"

Jack grimaced at that disgusting thought. He didn't mind taking a bath from time to time but it had been much more fun when Rowan had still been around; with her it had been a sensual event. "Well, I wish I had nicer company than ye ol' fart but at least we've cold beer. And here's to hoping they didn't scent the water with rose oil or something like that. No decent pirate should ever smell of roses."

Though Jack didn't like to smell of roses he wasn't dead set against roses in general and especially not if they looked as pretty as Rose in her soft pink silk dress that fitted so perfectly with her light blond hair and rosy cheeks

Rose Hawkins was the Turner's nanny. She came from a good family of honest English marines, her father had been quite close with Governor Swann, but sadly she became an orphan in the devastating earthquake of '92 when her parents died. Rose would have died too, drowning in the sea if not for Captain Jack Sparrow who had saved her life. Governor Swann had been so kind to take her in his household then, and when his daughter had come back from Asia to give birth to his grandson, Rose had voluntarily taken over the position of nanny for little William and his sister Lydia. She was good with children and soon she had made herself indispensable to the Turners who thought highly of her. They praised her to the skies and they had promised to find her a good, respectable husband. Rose, however, had already found her heart's desire. Ever since the day Jack had saved her from drowning she adored him. He was the hero of her young girl's dreams and now at the age of seventeen she had decided that she was going to marry him.

Jack didn't know that. But he wouldn't be Captain Jack Sparrow if he didn't feel flattered by a sweet lass who apparently adored him. She clung to every word he said and he just loved the way she fluttered her long lashes at him, too shy to look him straight in the eye but on the other hand revealing the delicate swelling of soft and full breasts in her low-cut dress. He could hardly take his eyes off her décolleté, she was so young and yet so irresistibly female. He asked her for a dance and when she acquiesced he remembered that he couldn't dance at all. Well, Alf had tried to teach him once yet that had been as fruitless as his attempts to teach him Latin- no pirate ever needed to know Latin or how to dance. Nevertheless he pretended he was good at it as he took her tightly in his arms so that he could feel her warm body close to his, and actually that was all he wanted. His feet moved with the rhythm while his hands danced along her back. She felt good, and the best thing was that she was so completely different than Rowan. She was young and sweet with very female curves; her hands weren't calloused by hard work and she would never hold a sword in them; her hair was golden, neatly pinned up except for some cute curls in the neck and over her right ear. Her lips- oh, her lips looked absolutely tempting and Jack wondered what they would taste like, and he had every intention in finding that out tonight.

Unfortunately that had to wait for a while since Bill elbowed him when he came from the dance floor, indicating with a nod of his head that he wanted to have a word with him. Jack sighed. He told Rose to get herself another glass of fruit punch and that he'd be right back before he shot his friend an enervated glance.

"What's up?"

"Well, that's what I wanted to ask you. What're **you** up to?"

"Me? I'm only trying to have some fun."

"But ye do still remember what I told ye before, aye?"

"Ye mean the don't screw the dragon's servants part? Aye, that I remember clearly, and I swear that I won't touch their property." Jack grinned inwardly since Rose wasn't one of the Turner's servants, she was neither a bond servant nor a slave and therefore he could do with her whatever she allowed. To him she was like a ripe fruit ready to be devoured.

But Bill wasn't daft, he had long figured out his friend. "Jack, Rosie's much too young for ye and…"

He was interrupted by Will who'd come searching for him, a sour-faced, high-necked lady in tow. "Father! There you are. I would like to introduce you to Milady de Winter."

"What a suitable name, she really looks like she's bringing the cold of an English winter to the Caribbean." Jack whispered to Bill, then he patted his friend's shoulder. "Have fun, mate. And don't be envious that I still get the young and pretty lasses while ye've to deal with old frigates."

Bill felt the urgent desire to give Jack a good beating but since that wasn't appropriable at the Governor's ball he just rolled his eyes. It also wasn't fair to beat a man who could only match him in madness but not in strength; Jack simply wasn't any good in hand fighting, let alone in martial arts. Instead he had his hands dancing in the air, performing wild, eccentric gestures although Bill's jaw still hurt from the one frustrated exception that proved the rule.

It had been his intention to go looking for Jack as soon as he's gotten rid of Milady de Winter without being too impolite but unfortunately the widow was quite obstinate- or just too keen to find herself a new husband, no matter how bad his manners were as long as he looked agreeable, and Bill definitely met her expectations. He was still a handsome man and the lines in his face or the white strands at his temples didn't spoil his attractiveness but made him look more interesting instead of just pretty. Nevertheless he wished it would be someone else and not a stiff, elderly English widow that kept him from helping Jack to avoid a folly, and he knew that Jack was about to do something foolish; he had seen the sparkle of mischief in his eyes. But when he finally got a moment of privacy he couldn't find Jack; he was gone and so was Rose Hawkins.

_Oh no_, he sighed silently as he searched the mansion for them, worrying that Jack might have talked Rosie into something she probably didn't know the consequences of- or had chosen to ignore them. Anyway, he forgot about that when he passed an open door and coincidentally eavesdropped on a conversation his son had with his new best friend, Richard Morrison. Commodore Morrison was only a few years older than Will, an excellent sword fighter, and he had made an unprecedented shooting star career in the Royal Navy. Bill froze in his tracks. He crouched in the dead angle of the door to pick up more but he didn't like what he had to hear. No, not at all.

"…Captain Griffins of the Seahawk is an honest man, Will, there is no reason to doubt his words. It was the Black Pearl he had seen, you can't mistake her. Jack Sparrow and his crew of miscreants have attacked a peaceful merchant flying the British flag, and they have ruthlessly slaughtered the whole crew, leaving no survivors. They had just been about to sink the merchant in order to cover all traces of their wicked deeds when the Seahawk appeared on the scene. Immediately the Black Pearl opened fire and Captain Griffith was lucky that he got away with only a broken main mast; he feared the pirates would send him to Davy Jones' locker for being an eye-witness of their horrible massacre."

"Oh my God!" Will gasped and fell silent for a moment. At that point Bill wanted to interfere and put things right but then his son continued, "I always knew that Jack would never give up piracy, the leopard never changes its spots. I just thought he would at least have the decency to spare British ships given his relation with Port Royal. And talking about relations- you do realize that my father was part of Jack's crew then?"

"Aye, that's why I came to talk to you before taking actions. I can't ignore that incident or file it away, I'm bound to the law. But you're my friend, so I recommend we better hush up the fact that your father was with Sparrow."

"Hm, but he could cast some light on that matter. You know, Jack has never been an overly cruel man and that makes me wonder…"

"Will, think about it! Imagine the scandal an official investigation would cause. This is a very delicate situation and I don't want to see the good name of your family discredited just because of your father's follies."

"You're right, Rich. Alas, my father's reputation is not flawless and when it comes to a trial people would start gossiping, they'd remember his odd ways and that he never goes to church."

"Exactly. Therefore his involvement has to be hushed up, for your children's sake. Their future should not be burdened with the stale taste of a scandal."

"Aye, that would be horrible." Will paused for a minute before asking. "What about Jack?"

"Well, he will be arrested and interrogated regarding the accusations against him. We'll grant him a fair trial but to be honest, the word of a respectable man like Captain Griffith might weigh more than that of a pirate."

"I should pity him but in the end piracy never pays. Jack had been given many chances to quit his lawless life, he just never took them. Neither did he accept a letter of marque nor did he ever thank Governor Swann for granting him clemency. Nevertheless, you can't arrest him right now, Richard. My father-in-law wouldn't appreciate such a trouble at his birthday party. But as I know Jack he will enjoy the free drinks tonight and sleep it off tomorrow, so that might be a good opportunity for you."

"Of course, and be sure of my discretion, Will. I will post some guards at the docks and come morrow we'll take him into custody without causing great attention."

Bill was stunned; he thought he'd choke on what he'd just heard, not believing his own ears. He had to warn Jack that his son was conspiring with the Bloody Navy although it was very unlikely that their plan would work out the way they had planned it- simply because Captain Jack Sparrow and not causing attention didn't fit into one sentence. But first had a bone to pick with his treacherous offspring so he waited until Commodore Morrison had left the room.

"I really wonder how you can still sleep at night."

"Father!" Will gasped startled since he hadn't heard him coming. He looked surprised and a bit like he'd been caught out, yet he play that down. "Um, what are you doing here? Don't you enjoy the party?"

"I'm enjoying it like a hole in me head, thanks for asking. It doesn't happen too often to have Port Royal's rotten high class society of hypocrites gathered in one place and you're without doubt the worst of them…"

"Father! How can you say that?"

"Well, you've just given away a friend…"

"You eavesdropped? How long have you- I mean, I'm sure you got it all wrong." Will tried to talk himself out of it but his father was no fool; he could tell the truth from a lie and he had figured him out perfectly well.

"Ah, and what was there to be mistaken, **_son_**?"

It was the icy cold calmness in Bill's voice that made Will shudder and for the first time he realized that he'd always underestimated his father- he was a dangerous man when given a reason, and the reason was Jack.

"Tell me, did I mistake ye? D'ye really take it for granted that every pirate is a ruthless murderer? D'ye really believe Jack could have done that? Ye should know him better but ye give a damn about asking him first instead of giving him away straight…"

"Father, if Jack Sparrow has done nothing wrong then he's got nothing to fear. Richard is just doing his duty therefore he has to investigate…"

"Stop. Interrupting. Me." Bill grabbed Will's collar and made his son to look him in the eye but the younger Turner cast down his gaze quickly. "Now listen to me and clean yer ears, savvy. First of all, the so-called merchant vessel was a bloody slaver. When we happened to come up against her she was drifting aimlessly with the current. Her crew had been slaughtered by someone unknown while her _freight_- Negro slaves from African- had died of smallpox. No pirate to blame for that. Jack just boarded her to look for survivors, he wanted to **help**. And the reason for our attempt to sink the slaver was not to cover our traces but because it was contaminated with smallpox. Therefore we gave the Seahawk a warning shot. It had never been Jack's intention to fight her but he wasn't in the mood to answer the stupid questions of prejudiced people either."

"Oh," Will said when it finally dawned on him that he might have been a tad too rash in condemning Jack.

"Oh? Is that all ye can say 'bout it? I'm struck with a failure of a son. Ye disappoint me, lad."

"**You** are disappointed? Why? Because I'm trying to live a decent life despite the fact that my own father constantly makes an effort to ruin my reputation by thoughtlessly offending everyone with your odd ways? Because I tried to keep your name out of that unsettling matter?"

"I didn't ask for that." Bill retorted coolly. "I'd never rank reputation above truth and friendship."

"But I did that for us, for our family! Think about your grandchildren for a moment- ah, I forgot, you don't care about them at all; Jack has always been more important to you. Do you really believe I didn't notice the look on your face each time he sailed away and you _had_ to stay behind?"

"I never **had** to stay behind, William. I stayed voluntarily because I wanted to get to know you better…"

"And now you're disappointed because I don't fit your expectations, because I'm not like you, because **I**'d do everything possible **not** to abandon my family."

"Ah, so that's the way the wind's blowing- ye still take it ill that I abandoned the little boy ye've been so ye vent all yer hidden frustration and jealousy on Jack though he's definitely not the one to blame. It was the same hypocritical society whose boots ye're licking now that forced me to leave."

"I'm not jealous of Jack!" Will snapped hot-headed, proving that he was the absolute opposite of his father who still remained calm. "And if you want to go and warn him it's alright to me; I won't tell Richard about it."

"How generous. So at least you scruple to give away yer father; I'm bloody proud of ye. But lemme tell ye something lad- choke on yer damned sense of propriety, I couldn't care less. And I definitely don't need yer permission to do what's right, so please excuse me now. Ta!"

-

Jack almost fled the Governor's mansion as if the devil himself was hard on his heels- or, to be more precisely, a she-devil. Sweet little Rose Hawkins had proven to be a sly bitch.

However, it had started so promising. Rosie's lips had tasted sweet and she definitely knew how to kiss. That had surprised him; he'd expected her to play hard to get like good girls usually did but she hadn't been out to play games. At least so it had seemed. She had been willing to let this evening end with more than just one kiss, and he'd been craving more. He was so fed up with whores who only judged him by the contents of his purse, who feigned affection, passion, orgasm. No more bargaining over a service that proved to be lousy in the end, no more mornings waking up with a stale taste in his mouth and his needs still not completely satisfied. He had wanted a real woman for a change, one that gave him real affection, and that she probably wasn't very experienced with men had been a special thrill. Yet he'd told himself not to push her too far; if she'd wanted him to stop he would have stopped, definitely. He would never force a woman and she had wanted him to make love to her. That she had told him, but it had been a lie. Although he had tried his best she hadn't enjoyed it, she had merely endured it. She hadn't objected to him, she hadn't complained, she hadn't begged him to stop. Instead she had just lain as stiff as a board beneath him, and her not responding had been really frustrating; especially when it had seemed to him that she had not even **wanted** to enjoy it. Also, the stupid git had failed to mention that she'd been a virgin until it was too bloody late to change a thing. Then she'd said they had just committed a sin and threatened him with marriage. So much for real affection, all he'd gotten was a virgin whore. The calculating bitch had used him, tried to cheat him, but apparently it hadn't dawned upon Rosie Hawkins yet that Captain Jack Sparrow was a pirate and therefore he wouldn't let anyone press him into marriage. Besides, he was already married- well, not officially, and his faithless wife was off roaming the Asian Seas without him, but that still didn't change the fact that he was married in some fashion. Bloody women. He had just laughed in her false angelic face and rudely told her that he would definitely not marry the most miserable screw he had ever had. She had started crying then but he could have cared less; he'd left her room and slammed the door. The lights of the Governor's mansion faded behind him when he made his way to the docks.

Lost in his thoughts he didn't notice that someone watched him boarding the Pearl, said person lurked in the shadows of a tavern and kept a sharp eye on the scenery. The man was one of Commodore Morrison's spies that were posted at the docks.

Jack didn't know about that and besides, he wouldn't have cared either. All he wanted was to be alone- well, that was only half true but since he couldn't get what he wanted anyway he could as well indulged in his loneliness. Mayhap he should consider celibacy. At least that would spare him to be taken in by virgin whores who were only keen on trapping him into marriage. Fooled by a pretty face. He'd absolutely wasted his time with this sly wench.

Suddenly the door of his cabin flew open and Bill came rushing in.

"Jack! We have to leave Port Royal immediately! Ye're in danger. At sunrise Commodore Morrison will send his man to arrest ye…"

"Bloody hell!" Jack started up from his comfortable position on the bed and grimaced. "Does she really have the nerve to send for the Navy just to get me to marry her?"

"Who?" Bill asked bewildered, then he got what Jack was about and shook his head. "Oh no- ye screwed Rose Hawkins."

"I swear I didn't know she was still a virgin 'til it was too bloody late."

"Ah, deflowering Rosie is probably the least of the problems ye've to worry about since my treacherous son is conspiring with the Bloody Navy; he's given ye up to save his reputation. It's about the incident with that slaver we came up against on our way to Port Royal. They're accusing **you** of attacking her and leaving no survivors, therefore they wanna take ye into custody and interrogate ye. But whatever ye say they won't believe ye anyway 'cause ye're an infamous pirate and their eye-witness is the most respectable Captain Griffith; his word will stand against yers."

"Damned!" Jack didn't know what else to say. There was no use telling tell Bill that he wasn't the one to blame because Bill **did **know that. But it stung worse than any slap in the face, maybe even more than the oar had, that after all this time the whelp could believe he would do such a thing. Will should know him better.

"Jack, the situation is serious. I had to knock out Morrison's spies just to get here and I won't have that be to no avail."

Bill dropped his bag to the floor and it was only then Jack noticed that he indeed had been carrying a sea bag over his shoulder. He knew at once what his friend had in mind since that wasn't hard to figure out. "Oh no, ye don't mean to do **_that_**!"

"Oh yes. I recommend ye give orders to set sails first and then we can go into details."

"Ye're a daft fool, Bill Turner. If ye leave with me now ye can never return 'cause it's mighty unlikely Gouv'ner Swann will grant ye clemency for a second time. And what about Will? Now that ye finally found him ye wanna leave him again just because ye're momentarily mad at him?"

"It's not a rushed decision. I've been fed up with Port Royal's hypocritical, rotten to the core society for a long time, all the restrictions of this life are suffocating me to the point that I can hardly breathe. I love Will but I don't love him enough to give up being myself; I would though if he needed me but he doesn't. Elisabeth is all he needs, all he cares for. I'm merely tolerated in this idyllic family, forever the interloping outsider, the lost heathen father who does nothing but threaten their good reputation with his quirks. I'm not welcome there, and I'm sick of all that. So can we please leave now?"

Jack shook his head. He felt torn; he feared that Bill would regret his decision to engage in piracy sooner or later but on the other hand he was egoistically overjoyed of the prospect that his friend wanted to go to sea with him again. "Well, I don't need ye either. I already have a first mate and Mr Gibbs definitely is a very able-bodied sailor. Actually, of the two of ye he's the only one who's never committed mutiny."

"Ah, don't dredge up the past, we're through with that. Ye know quite well that I didn't take any active part in that mutiny and besides, I'm not keen on Gibbs' job. I'm here because that's where I want to be, where I belong. At yer side- and don't tell me that Captain Too-Full-Of-Himself Jack Sparrow doesn't need anybody."

"Unfortunately the position of the Captain's friend is not on the Pearl's payroll."

"I know. But the position of the ship's doctor is and as far as I know that position is still vacant- unless of course ye wanna call that Wilkins guy a doc. I mean, being a butcher might qualify him for amputations but I'd say it's better that stay in the galley since he'll kill less people with his food…"

"Apparently ye've been pondering on this for quite a while, aye?"

"Well, I made up my mind and perhaps for the first time ever I have a free choice; there haven't been many decisions left to me in my life. I didn't want to work at the London docks but my family couldn't afford me going to school any longer; it was expected that I'd marry so I married Claire. Then I had to leave her because I was pressed to serve the Navy, and when pirates saved me I had to join them. After all, I owed them my life therefore I couldn't decline when Santiago asked me to do him a favour and ye know how that ended."

"Aye, in a bloody mutiny- but that, of course, wasn't yer free choice either."

"Nah, definitely not." Bill sighed wearily, he still felt guilty for not having been able to avoid it. This guilt had finally made him to chase the dragon until Santiago had dragged him out of Shanghai's worst opium hole and sent him to a Buddhist monastery nearby. That hadn't been his choice either but soon he had begun to like the tranquil, serene atmosphere and he had learned a good deal about himself there, lost in meditation. Until one day his peaceful life had been disturbed by the arrival of the son he had believed to be dead. It had been his duty as a neglectful father to leave the monastery in order to live with his long neglected son and get to know him better but after all's said and done that had led to nothing but frustration. They were too different to get on with each other although he had really tried to change his ways. Nevertheless he couldn't twist completely and he didn't see any use in it either when all he got was narrow-minded intolerance. So he had finally given in to the longing call of the sea raging in his veins. He wanted to be back at sea, back home on the Pearl with his mad friend Jack. No more living a lie or having to weigh his words. "You know, the first time I came aboard the Pearl, piracy had definitely not been the aim of my life but it **is** me free choice now. I'd rather live a lawless life than have laws bent for me."

Jack didn't answer. Instead he turned on his heels and staggered out of the cabin as if he was too busy to occupy himself with his new crew member any longer. Bill shook his head slightly amused; he hadn't expected Jack to shout or jump for joy about his return but he knew he was welcome back aboard anyway. Sometimes there was more in the things Jack didn't say or do.

"Well, well, as it seems I'm back home," he whispered as he patted the dark wood the Pearl was made of. Now, that was another thing his son would never understand. To Will a ship was merely what he could see- a hull, some masts and sails- and not what it meant. Freedom.

With a gentle creaking of the planks underneath his feet the Pearl began to move now; he could almost feel the waves caressing her black hull as she drifted along with the current. So apparently Jack had finally given orders to weigh anchor. A wise decision, given that- though it was still dark outside- a very faint glow on the eastern horizon already indicated the birth of a new day. Bill didn't want to be anywhere near Port Royal when Commodore Morrison found out that the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow had slipped through his fingers, but he also didn't want to miss the chance to throw a last glance at Port Royal and wave goodbye for good.

He had almost forgotten how stunning the colours of a Caribbean sunrise looked when at the same time the fresh morning breeze blew the black sails above him and glittering sea spray foamed up at the bow. The sight almost rendered him breathless but on the other hand he felt as if he could finally breathe deeply again. He closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating only on the salty smell of the sea, the sound of the waves and that of the awakening town they left behind. The bell of a church, the bark of a dog- it all faded in the distance and merely the cries of the seagulls remained while the first rays of the rising sun warmed his face. _No more living a lie. I'm sorry Will, but here's where I truly belong. Goodbye…_

He winced when suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Just in case ye already regretting yer decision, mate- I can still throw ye overboard."

"Ye're too kind," Bill turned around and blinked at Jack, "but there's no need for that. Ye won't get rid off me that easily so ye better get used to having me around."

"Well then, go 'n find yerself a hammock in the crew's quarters." Jack was just about to walk away from Bill when he froze in his tracks, indecisively waggling with his hands in the air as if he'd forgotten something important. Then he seemed to remember. "Ah, I want to see ye in me cabin after ye've found yerself a hammock, and bring along something to drink, savvy?. That's a Captain's order!"

"Aye, Captain." Bill replied with a grin. He dropped his bag at an empty hammock in the crew's quarter- not complaining about this plain accommodation in comparison to his almost decadently furnished chamber in the Governor's mansion since he was used to less comfort from his stay at the Buddhist monastery- then he stopped at the galley before returning to Jack's cabin.

The look on Captain Jack Sparrow's face was priceless when Bill put down a tray with a steaming pot of tea, fresh fruit, bread and scrambled eggs in front of him.

"What the hell's that?"

"Yer breakfast."

Jack grimaced. "I didn't ask for bloody breakfast, I told ye to bring along something to drink."

"Aye, and that's what I did," Bill said calmly as he poured out some tea, "mayhap ye've forgotten to specify what it is ye wanna drink but I'd say ye're better off with tea given that ye've been spending too many nights with drinking too much booze and whoring around. Nothing's wrong with that though but as yer ship's doc I have to tell ye to take a break…"

"Damned, I really should've thrown ye overboard…"

"Talking 'bout throwing something overboard," Bill interrupted, pointing with his head to the old, worn out boot of Treasure Joe that stood on Jack's table, "why not starting with this ugly old thing?"

"'Cause **that** ugly ol' thing will make us incredibly rich." Jack retorted. "But as it seems ye always underestimated Treasure Joe otherwise known as Gammy Leg Joe. Ye know, there's a reason why he was called so in the first place, before he became known as Treasure Joe, before he'd found himself a clever cobbler. Look," using his dagger he carefully opened the false-bottomed sole of that boot, thus revealing a little secret compartment crammed with folded papers. He took out the first one and waved it grinning in front of Bill's nose, "Joe's gathered some information about the treasure of the church of Lima, including a solid-gold, life-size statue of the Virgin Mary encrusted with gems, some as big as eggs- if ye don't scramble them..."

"Ah, so ye wanna sack Lima?"

"Nah." For someone who had pulled a face at the sight of breakfast Jack wolfed down the food quite greedily, keeping Bill waiting for an explanation. "There's no reason to sack Lima 'cause they're gonna take the treasure to Spain."

"Well, since I hope ye don't plan to sack Spain I'm sure ye wanna attack them on their way there- but don't ye think a ship with such a valuable freight will be escorted by some man-'o-wars?"

"Nope. It's a top secret mission. They're don't want to attract attention therefore there will be only one ship, but we're not gonna seize it after it's hold is stuffed with ecclesiastical riches-by the way the scrambled eggs were really good, I'm thinking about hiring ye as me personal cook…"

"Jack!" Bill cut him short, not in the mood to hear praises about his cooking when all he wanted was to find out what crazy brilliant ideas Jack was hatching. "Don't change the topic and don't keep me on tenterhooks, savvy? "

"Alright mate, I know the name of the ship that's supposed to take the treasure to Spain and I know when that will happen, so all we've gotta do is commandeer it and become Spaniards."

"Sounds like an easy plan except that ye don't speak Spanish at all."

"Una botella grande de vino tinto por favor." Jack replied fluently and almost without any accent.

"Yes, I'm sure that will definitely convince the authorities of Lima to leave their precious treasure to you. Man, I know ye're good at impersonating people and I'll never forget yer impersonation of an English cleric..."

"Ye still remember that?" Jack chuckled. "That was fun, wasn't it?"

"Aye." Bill grinned at this memory but soon he became serious again. "Alas, that won't work with the most catholic Spaniards and besides, ye do recognize that the knowledge hidden in that boot is a dangerous one? After all, Treasure Joe died for it and so did the whole crew of the slaver though I don't mourn their deaths."

"Neither do I. But the Spaniards who'd been after Joe didn't discover the secret compartment in his boot so it is likely they believed he took his knowledge to his grave and therefore they will forget about this incident soon since all the people he could have shared his knowledge with are dead. Savvy? And I am well aware that I won't be any good in trying to impersonate a most catholic Spaniard therefore we have to find a reliable Spaniard to do that job for me. Any idea where to find one?"

Bill thought about it. He ruled out Tortuga since the few Spanish pirates there were everything but reliable and though Hispaniola was teeming with Spaniards it would be like seaching a pin in a haystack to find an honest villian on that island- except perhaps for the peninsula in the north east of Hispaniola, a beautiful place populated mainly by a big family clan of smugglers. "How about one of Anamaria's many brothers in Samaná?"

"Brilliant idea," Jack said sarcastically, "they'd be me first choice if it hadn't been Ana's boat I borrowed and unfortunately the bloody thing sank when I reached Port Royal so they won't welcome me with open arms there."

"Ah, don't worry- that happened more than six years ago and although the Garcia family is known to be hot-tempered they're not unforgiving. Ye'll get a good bashing first but then they'll overwhelm ye with hospitality. If ye're really keen on that treasure it should be worth a few bruises."

"Ta, ye're a great friend. Now isn't it good I've just hired a ship's doc? Anyway, I'll give orders to set course for Samaná." Jack slowly raised from his chair and suddenly Bill noticed how weary and exhausted he looked. The dark rings under his eyes made him wonder when he had slept last. Certainly not for the past two nights.

"But ye do know that giving orders to set course for Samaná doesn't mean **you** have to steer yer ship there, don't ye?" He reminded him gently. "Ye're the captain of the Pearl, ye don't have to do everything on yer onesies; ye've got an able-bodied crew to do that so take a rest now. Ye need some sleep."

"Actually I'm not that tired- or is having to sleep an order of me new ship's doc?"

"No. That's an order of yer ol' friend."

A wry half smile curled up Jack's lips. The idea of getting some sleep was really tempting and Bill was right- he did have an able-bodied and most of all trustworthy crew that definitely could do without him for a while. So after giving orders to change the course he sat down on the bed and kicked off his boots, then he dropped flat on his back and was almost sound asleep an instant later.

Bill chuckled silently. _No, not tired at all but ye fall asleep as soon as yer head hits the pillow._ Shaking his head he pulled a blanket over him. Jack grunted contently in his sleep as he grabbed it and rolled to his side, instinctively clutching the blanket tightly to him.

"Gladye'reback," he slurred sleepily.

"Me too, mate, me too." Bill replied almost inaudible, not at all regretting his decision to leave Port Royal and engage in piracy again.

* * *

**Author's note**: As far as I know the peninsula of Samaná in the north-east of Hispaniola/ Dominican Republic was not populated in 1697 but mayhap the presence of a smuggler's family clan could have slipped the history writers of that time. Nevertheless it still is a beautiful place, I've been there for research…

The treasure of Lima did exist as well as the mentioned statue of the Virgin Mary. In 1820, as the revolutionary José de San Martin advanced on Lima, the Spanish Viceroy realized he had better remove all the ecclesiastical riches under his command but since he figured that hiding the treasure anywhere near Lima would be foolish he entrusted it to a British sea captain named William Thompson. However, a load of such value proved too great a temptation to Thompson and his men so they turned to piracy and made haste to the Isla de Coco where it is said they hid the treasure. It was never found. I saw a documentary about that on TV last summer and thought that sounds like a typical Jack Sparrow thing so I had to bend history a little, hope you don't mind. After all, I'm writing fiction and not a history book although I do my best to keep to historic facts. And I still do love reviews…


	12. Smuggler's Haven

**author's note: **Thanks to my friend Sandra forthe Spanish and of course thanks to ellennar for correctingall my mistakes and helping me with the title. I would have long given up without you.

And I wish I could include pictures...

Chapter 12- Smuggler's Haven

Samaná 

Samaná was a mountainous peninsula covered with lush tropical rain forest; the mountains ran along its spine from the twin capes of Rincon Bay in the east to the mainland of Hispaniola in the west. The Atlantic north coast was a seemingly endless stringing together of narrow, white-sandy beaches winding for miles from one beautiful bay to the next, all rimmed with numberless palm trees. Some of them had been so twisted by the elements they almost grew horizontal, their leaves overhanging the incoming waves. Here the sea looked bright turquoise with shades of green in the sunlight but it was a risky shore for ships to approach due to the shallow waters, and there were many coral reefs hidden under the deceptively beautiful surface. At the south coast was the Bahía de Samaná, a large bay with some idyllic offshore islands. From here you could see to an area of limestone rocks leading into a widespread mangrove forest on the mainland. All in all the peninsula seemed to be an unspoiled paradise, but it had been here that in 1493 the first armed confrontation between Columbus and the natives of the New World had taken place, so this place had become known as Bahía de las Flechas, the bay of arrows. By now there were no natives anymore, no Tainos, Arawaks or whatever they had been called. The Spaniards had done a thorough job and yet Samaná was not unpopulated; there was a small village at the south coast.

That village was nothing spectacular at first sight, in fact it just looked like every Caribbean fishing village did. Some small fishing boats had been pulled up on the beach, others were languidly bopping up and down in the gentle surf. There were a few wooden houses hidden behind palm trees where the women of the village sat together, chatting, cleaning the catch of the day, while their children played at the beach, using the broken trunk of a crooked tree to jump into the water. Their cheerful laughter mingled with the screaming of seagulls and pelicans which fought over fish innards the women had been throwing away. It seemed to be a typical fishing village and yet it wasn't. Built in the wooden, lush green foothills of the mountains and therefore hard to make out from the seaside were some more houses. Some of them resembled the fine manor houses of Santo Domingo with their thick brick walls, painted shutters, and shady inner courtyards, but others were just office buildings or stores. If you took a closer look you could also see that adjacent to the shallow waters of the beach, separated by a riff, was a natural harbour were the one or other more seaworthy vessel was moored. Actually the fishing boats were merely there to keep up appearances because that village was not at all a fishing village- instead it was one of the most important trade centres for smuggled goods in the whole Caribbean. And though almost everybody in Hispaniola knew that as well as it was known everywhere else, the Spanish authorities in Santo Domingo didn't take any action against the smugglers living in Samaná.

There were various reasons for that and one of them was Vittorio Garcia, the patriarch of the smuggling family clan. Vittorio stemmed from one of Spain's most respected families; he had been very successful as a merchant, owning two large sugar cane plantations, and he had made a remarkable political career in Hispaniola. He had even married a decent woman, the beautiful Dona Isabella, who had given birth to his first two children, Louisa and Cristo, his heir. Alas, his beautiful wife had emotionally been as cool as a block of ice so that he had almost been forced to start having affairs. Nothing wrong with that given that most members of Santo Domingo's better class had at least one concubine where they could flee to when their catholic wives were suffering from another attack of migraine, but those were mainly pretty young Spanish girls and never- under no circumstances- pretty young Negro slaves. Vittorio, however, had overstepped all limits of tolerance not only by having an affair with one of his slaves but also by falling in love with her and not even showing the decency to hush up this regrettable fact. The scandal was unavoidable and it actually cost the life of Isabella who had generously tolerated all of his previous affairs. Not this one though. That had been the turning point of his life. Shunned by the society of Santo Domingo he had looked for another place to dwell and so he had came upon the peninsula of Samaná. There he had built a house for his beloved Consuelo and started his career as a rumrunner, then he had extended his business as well as his house after his first three sons had been born. Today, at the age of sixty-seven and still in the best of heath, he was proud to have fathered at least eleven healthy children and he still had friends in the most exclusive political circles of Santo Domingo who appreciated the wisdom of his words despite the scandal he had caused once.

In the stores the air was warm and stuffy but the woman working there didn't seem to mind. She was checking the latest shipment, silk from China that always sold tremendously well in Santo Domingo. In her head she was already calculating the profit and she was very good at dealing with numbers. But then the wailing cry of a child broke her concentration.

"Mummy, mummy they hit me," her son came around a corner, tears streaming down his face as he clung to her leg, "me hate havin' sisters."

"Nah, don't say that Nando. You're sisters are" She picked up the boy and went looking for the twins, still trying to think of something nice to say about them. It wasn't that she didn't love them- she absolutely adored her girls- but they weren't the typical cute little darlings; instead Elisa and Elena were cute little she-devils, always ready for mischief. They needed the strong hand of a father but unfortunately their father wasn't there. He was…

"Oh no." Anamaria's mood sank even more when she entered her office and saw the mess the twins had made. Smeared with black ink they sat amidst torn papers, babbling cheerfully. Enervated she ran her fingers through her hair and set down Fernando who immediately started crying again while she tried to sort out whether the twins had ruined any important papers. She snatched a slobbered on sheet from Elisa's fingers before the girl could taste the paper but Elisa took offence in that and burst out wailing, soon joined by her compassionate twin sister. Silently cursing her husband for getting her pregnant, Anamaria called for her mother.

"Madre!" The kids shouldn't have been here at all, her mother had promised to take care of them. Where was she when she was needed? "Madre! I need yer help!"

Finally a stout black woman walked in. She must have been very pretty once but years of good living and several pregnancies had bloated her formally slender body; nevertheless she still moved with a proud grace and heaving bosom, swaying her round hips. Now she stood at the door, theatrically raising her arms as she overlooked the scenery.

"Madre de Dios, Anamaria, I raised nueve niños and never did I allow such a mess."

"Mamá, if ye're trying to tell me I'm not a good mother because I can't handle my three misbehaving brats then do me a favour and stop, por favor. Just take the kids and let me do my work. I'm busy. I still have to check the last shipment and we're already expecting the next, savvy? Besides, ye promised me to take care of them."

"Si, si, yo sé, mi querida. But Senora Perez told me her daughter's having her first bebé and when I turned around your kids were gone. Amazing how swift they are though the chicas can hardly walk."

"Aye, amazing." Anamaria rolled her eyes; she was proud of her kids but not when they were messing up the schedule of her day. The El Peregrino, her sloop and the flagship of a small fleet of smuggler vessels she owned, was expected to return from Asia today, loaded with silk, tea and spices- and hopefully with a letter from her husband.

Consuelo gathered all three children in her arms and pressed them to her heavy bosom. Immediately their bawling stopped. Mildly accusing she looked at her daughter. "You work to much. You're always busy, never have time for your children but they need their mamá. And they need a papá… so were is that disloyal husband of yours who never saw his lovely twin daughters and who didn't even had the guts to give you a proper name?"

"What's wrong with the name Garcia? You never complained about that when ye married Dad." Anamaria snapped but then she sighed wearily. Yes, she'd prefer to have her husband at her side, watching the first steps Elena and Elisa made. Alas, he had other obligations at the moment since he still was first mate on the Jewel Star and this was the only reason that kept him away from his family. She had accepted that a long time ago so she didn't want her mother to speak ill of him. "By the way, the reason I don't carry his name is that his Finnish name was so unpronounceable even he had forgotten it and so we agreed on the name of Garcia when we married."

"Why marrying a Finnish guy at all?"

"'Cause he asked me to." And she hoped he wouldn't regret that when he'd meet her family- whenever that would be. Perhaps he had only dared to marry her because he didn't know the Garcia Clan.

"Ah, you should have married a decent Español like your sisters did…"

"Mum, please, I have to go back to work." Work was always good since it distracted her from missing Marris too much.

"Si, si mi pequeña princesa. I know your father appreciates you being such a hard-working chica, he's very proud of you… and so am I." Consuelo pinched her daughter's cheek affectionately. "You should take a siesta though. You look tired. And you should eat something. You're much too thin. You'll never find another marido if you're too thin."

Anamaria pointedly turned around and began cleaning up the mess her twins had made; she didn't want to hear that. Ever since the day she had came back to Samaná, well advanced in pregnancy and without a husband to present to her family, her mother had tried to pair her off while her brothers had sworn revenge on the one who had dared to get her pregnant and then left her alone. Only her father and sisters believed that the mysterious stranger called Marris would show up one day, for different reasons though. Her sisters were just hopelessly romantic but her father believed in her, he considered her a capable, clever person who would not be so daft to give her heart to any ne'er-do-well. Of course he was right. Marris would come as soon as his obligations allowed him to. Suddenly she felt frustrated. What about the obligations he had towards her and his family? Why didn't they matter as much as his position aboard the Jewel, why was he still sailing with bloody Rowan Scarlett? Yet pondering over these facts was not very productive, so Anamaria focussed on the shipment's list again only to find out that she couldn't concentrate on it the way she had before. The numbers didn't make sense anymore, they began to dance in front of her eyes as her mind was still consumed with Marris. She shouldn't think of him- she told herself she was a strong woman therefore she could handle the situation, and that it was better not to think of him in the day when it was already hard enough to miss him in the lonely nights here. She also was a businesswoman; she had started her own trade with smuggled goods during her stay in Asia and she could be proud of the connections she had there. There was work to do, the El Peregrino was expected today… and hopefully she would bring a letter of Marris. Her thoughts were back to him again, she couldn't help it. His letters arrived on a very irregular basis- sometimes she received none at all and sometimes four or five at the same time although he wrote to her at least once a week...

Suddenly a call interrupted her thoughts. "Sails ho!"

The El Peregrino? Anamaria left her office in a hurry to get more information about the approaching ship the watch had reported. On her way to the harbour she met her oldest brother Ramiro who observed the sea with a spyglass.

"It's none of your ships, pequeã hermana, but it looks kinda familiar to me. I've seen a ship with black sails before…"

"Black sails?" Her heart leapt with hope. Were the sails really black or actually the colour of dried blood, a red so dark it almost seemed black? It could be the Jewel Star! Finally! She snatched the spyglass from Ramiro's hands to take a closer look, then put it down again disappointed. "It's the Pearl… but what the hell's Jack Sparrow doing here?"

"Jack Sparrow?" Ramiro arched a quizzical brow. "Isn't he the guy who stole your boat?"

"Si," Anamaria nodded thoughtlessly, apparently not aware of the abundance of testosterone seething in the blood of a male Garcia. Mixed with Spanish pride and the stubborn intention to protect his sister's honour at all costs it was a dangerous combination.

"Well, well- that guy's got nerves. Once he was welcomed here with open arms but now we'll give him the welcome he deserves."

Before she could react, Ramiro called for her elder brothers. "Ramon! Raul! Rafael! Let's meet the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow at the docks and give him a good bashing! He stole our sister's boat!"

"No!" Anamaria yelled although a part of her definitely did want to see Jack's trademark grin being wiped off his face. But not like that, not by the fists of her overly protective brothers. Well, he **had** borrowed her boat without permission- that was right- yet he had promised to get her a better one and that promise he had kept; he had given her the El Peregrino. However, it was too late to change a thing and when she saw him walking down the gangplank of the Pearl, so full of himself as if the whole world belonged to him, she agreed he deserved a little damper.

Her brothers stood in line, awaiting him, ready for action.

"Sparrow!" Ramon barked. "You bastard…"

"Captain," Jack interrupted him, directing his glance to the sky, "it's Captain Sparrow."

"However," Raul raised his fist but before it could connect with Jack's jaw he found himself flat on his back, looking really surprised.

"Oh, seems ye've slipped, mate." While Bill friendly offered him his hand to help him up again, Jack cracked a broad, self-satisfied smile. Though he didn't need protection from these Spanish guys it was good to have a friend who was skilled in martial arts. The Garcia brothers seemed to be impressed and stepped back.

"Hello Jack." Anamaria came to greet him with a hard slap that sent the beads in his hair jingling.

"Ouch! What've I done to deserve that?" Jack yelped and shot Bill a glare that said, why didn't you stop her? But Bill just chuckled and so did the rest of the Garcia family.

"That was for being yourself." Ana snapped, and Ramiro continued. "She's right. You stole her boat…"

"The El Peregrino?" Jack was mildly confused and also a tad fed up with being accused of things he hadn't done.

"The Jolly Mon. Don't pretend you don't remember that. We'd beat you black and blue right now but apparently Senor Turner won't let that happen, and since he is a good man we hold no grudge against we unfortunately have to spare you. It's only for Senor Turner- keep that in mind, you mangy son of a bitch!" Ramon spat and it sounded like a threat. Watch your back, don't walk alone at night…

"ENOUGH!" A dominant voice barked as the patriarch entered the scene. Vittorio Garcia was an impressive person who radiated authority; his posture was straight, almost stiff, and every inch the Spanish nobleman he was- all those years of living in the outskirts of civilisation, away from Santo Domingo's high-society hadn't changed that. He was casually dressed but his clothes were of fine quality, his shoulder-length, snow white hair was neatly tied back in the nape of his neck and the moustache as well as the goatee that underlined his aristocratic features were carefully trimmed. Nevertheless, Vittorio also was good-humored man. The lines in his tanned face proved that he loved to laugh and his brown eyes usually had a very gentle edge. But now he was upset about the behaviour of his three eldest sons so his orbs had darkened when he yelled to bring them back in line. "Ramiro! Ramon! Raul! Have the three of you completely forgotten about the rules of hospitality? It might cool you temper if you get out of the sun and invite our guests to our house where it's pleasantly shady. For goodness' sake, it's been seven years since Capitano Sparrow stole you're sister's boat and he has given her a much better one meanwhile."

Jack thought it was wiser not to mention that he had merely borrowed it without permission because he would never **steal** the boat of a friend- what a nasty word, in fact he didn't even consider the act of piracy itself as stealing; to him it was more like redistributing fortune. He also didn't mention that he'd only came here in order to find a reliable Spaniard with whose help he could sack Lima. Mayhap it hadn't even been a wise idea to come here at all given that at least the three oldest sons of Vittorio Garcia would rather see him biting the dust than offer him a helping hand.

Bill felt a bit melancholy when he walked from the harbour to the mansion; he had often walked that way in earlier years. Once, a few months after he had met Jack for the first time, they had discovered the peninsula Samaná accidentally while seeking cover from a heavy storm. They had been greeted with great friendliness and hospitality, and Bill had almost immediately fallen in love with this beautiful place. He had even thought about building a house here, so he had written a letter to Claire, asking her to come to the Caribbean. Alas, she hadn't done that. She had chosen to stay in London although the weather conditions there didn't improve her frail constitution and it was bitter irony that she had died from pneumonia during a cold English winter. She should have thought of Will; a lad needed his father, not strangers raising him, imprinting their ideas about morals and character on him. Will wouldn't be a stranger to him now if Claire had come to the Caribbean then…

His thoughts were interrupted when he entered to big mansion and was greeted by Consuelo and her two eldest daughters, Ynes and Carmen. They had been really pretty lasses when he'd seen them last but now they resembled their mother with their generous female forms. Ynes had had a serious crush on him once, she would have married him on the spot and though he had liked her a lot he had stayed faithful to Claire. Jack had always laughed about him, saying that she had long finished with him, and probably he had been right.

Apparently Ynes had found herself another guy to marry as the little girl clinging to her skirt proved. It was one of four, she told him, and that was only a small part of Consuelo and Vittorio's crowd of grandchildren since they had about thirty, ranging from babies to adolescents, who were already founding the next generation of Garcias. There were children everywhere in the house, running to and fro, playing hide and seek, pulling each others hair, screaming, laughing, screeching, bawling, whining. They were calling for their mothers and mothers called their children, soothing them, rebuking them - the background noises in the big mansion were overwhelming, it was hardly ever quiet. Nevertheless there was a certain order in all that turmoil since the women managed to prepare a banquet for their guests, gather their offspring and have them all sitting neatly at the table in less then an hour.

Though Bill enjoyed the warm-hearted, slightly chaotic atmosphere he wasn't sure anymore if he really could have lived here. It was fun to stay for a while and he'd always longed to come back one day but in the end he had just learned that he simply wasn't a family man. The call of the sea was stronger than his need of a family, and the bonds of the Garcia clan would have been too restricting; he was glad that he could sail away again.

He looked to Jack who was unusually quiet and that was odd. One would think he'd love to have an audience as big as the Garcia clan to whom he could spill all the stories that had made him infamous and to spin a yarn or two. However, he didn't do that- actually he had hardly uttered a word since being so fiercely welcomed by Anamaria and the reason for that was not at all the slap in the face. It was obvious that he hadn't expected to meet her here, especially not alone, without Marris, impatiently awaiting his letter. He'd briefly asked her about the whereabouts of her husband only to get the snappy response that he was still first mate on the Jewel Star, and mentioning the Jewel had been enough to ruin his mood. Then Ana had turned around to elbow Pilar, her youngest sister - sweet sixteen and very pretty, therefore always good for causing trouble- because she thought the girl was giving him flirtatious glances.

"Don't dare to encourage him, he's a bloody ne'er-do-well."

"Dios mio, I was only wondering why you fell for him." Pilar said, shrugging. "Well, with his outlandish appearance he might look kinda interesting pero es definitivamente demasiado viejo para mi."

Anamaria broke out into hilarious laughter.

Jack did understand enough Spanish to know that the girl considered him too old for her and though she was definitely right with that- after all, he wasn't even keen to screw another virgin after his experience with Rosie- her words nevertheless gnawed at his self-confidence, and he wasn't used to that. Now he picked at his food, pondering what had gone so fucking wrong in his previously wonderful life and came up with the conclusion that he merely needed another spectacular raid. He had to check the Garcia brothers if one of them was trustworthy and reliable enough to accompany him and thus help him with the plan he already had in his mind ever since he'd found Treasure Joe's notes- but not today.

-

The lanterns had gone out on the Pearl and the only light came from the Captain's cabin now, but Jack had locked himself in, apparently not wanting to be disturbed. Bill knew what was wrong with him. Rowan. He'd been dying to ask Anamaria whether she knew anything about her but he didn't ask her because… well, because he was Captain Jack Sparrow and therefore he couldn't admit that something in his life was out of control. Stupid, stubborn idiot. On the other hand Bill had to stand up for Jack since he himself would feel equally uncomfortable discussing such a delicate matter with the woman who loved to slap him for the slightest reason. Fortunately Anamaria didn't love to slap him though, so he could go and talk to her. After all, Anamaria was probably the only person who could shed some light on the question what was wrong with Rowan simply because her husband was still first mate aboard the Jewel **and** she had received a letter from him when the El Peregrino had arrived a little earlier on this evening. Also, there was still a light to see in the windows of the rooms she inhabited. For a second time this day Bill walked up that old familiar path and knocked at the shutters.

Enervated she opened them and seeing Bill standing there, Anamaria hissed in a low voice. "Blast! Apparently ye don't have the slightest idea what it means to get three lively brats to bed and they've just fallen asleep so I beg ye to be silent, savvy? What d'ye want here anyway?"

"I need to talk to ye, Ana, and it's urgent."

She would have loved to close the shutters again and left him standing outside yet there had been something in his voice that made her soft. She sighed. "Alright then, but not here. I really don't wanna wake the kids. Meet me at the porch in a few minutes, aye?"

Bill agreed. He went to the porch and waited there for Anamaria, enjoying the beautiful sight he had from the house over the bay. The stars looked as if they were within reach, millions of them were sparkling from a velvet back sky. He could see the dark silhouettes of the ships in the harbour bobbing languidly up and down in the gentle swell of the sea. An orchestra of cicadas played its monotone symphony and from time to time he could also hear the croaking of a frog or other nightly noises of the nearby jungle. He took a deep breath; the air was still warm and smelled of exotic flowers.

Then Anamaria arrived at the porch, carrying a pitcher with cold beer and two mugs that she noisily thumped on a small table.

"I hope ye've good reasons for disturbing me at this time," she snapped as she sat down, impatiently looking at Bill. "So what's it ye wanna know?"

"No good news from yer husband? Why ye're so snappy with me, dear Ana?"

"Ever tried to fit three bawling brats in yer daily routine? The twins are always ready for mischief, now they're also teething so I hardly get any sleep; Nando's in his whining phase, constantly clinging to me, and besides I have a very promising smuggler's business to care for. Thanks for asking Mr Turner. Is that all ye wanted to know?"

"No," Bill poured them some beer and clinked mugs with Anamaria before continuing, "I wanna know why Marris is not here with ye."

Ana almost spilled her beer. "Blast, ye got the nerve to ask me that? Go 'n ask _Mylady _Captain Scarlett, the bloody bitch, 'cause apparently my dear husband thinks she can't do without him while I can. Or- even better- ask Jack Sparrow since he's the one to blame for her moods. If he hadn't left her…"

"Wait a second! Did Rowan say that? I mean, that Jack left her?"

"Nah," she sneered, "_Mylady_ would never talk to someone as unimportant as I am- in fact she hasn't talked to anyone since our hasty departure from Madras. But isn't it obvious? Jack's definitely not famous for long lasting relationships, he only loves himself and the Pearl..."

"Ye're wrong with that." Bill interrupted calmly and that got him a puzzled glance from Anamaria.

"Am I?"

He ignored her question since he considered it as rhetorical, so he inquired about the details of what had happened after their departure from Madras.

"Well, we've been sailing aimlessly for a week or so and after all that's happened to her in Kalpitiya I actually could understand her; her need for solitude, endless horizons and all those things. I even felt sorry for her. Then one day she became aware of me being pregnant and made me leave the Jewel, fuming that she didn't want to have a pregnant woman aboard. I dunno what had gotten into her thick head, maybe she was afraid she was pregnant from Shardul and therefore couldn't stand the sight of me. Or she'd just remembered that she didn't like me at all. Anyway, we've never been friends. I'd come to respect her for being an able captain and a good sailor but personally… well, simply dropping me in Madras didn't improve my opinion of her. So I came back here again, to my chaotic, overly protective family while my husband is somewhere roaming the Asian Seas."

"Ah," Bill scratched his head. It was good to know that Marris was with Rowan though Anamaria would certainly disagree to that. But Ana was strong and she had the backing of her family while Rowan was… well, he still didn't know what was wrong with her or why she hadn't returned to Jack yet. "So what does Marris say about her?"

"Bah, d'ye really think we discuss Captain Scarlett's well-being in our letters when there are so many other things that matters more to us, like our children? Marris hasn't even seen the twins yet…"

"But the reason for that **is** Rowan- ye said yerself that he thinks she can't do without him."

"He also believes Jack left her and therefore she might need a loyal friend at her side."

Bill cracked a wry smile, apparently Marris and he had a lot in common these days.

"So if Jack has not left her like ye indicated," a broad smile formed on Anamaria's face as it dawned upon her, "she must have left **him**. Nah, I don't believe it- the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow has been left? The incorrigible womanizer has finally reached the limits of his popularity with women? She should be glad being rid of him…"

"Anamaria," Bill said sternly, "this is **not **funny. I'm not making fun of yer situation which isn't much better than Jack's at the moment, so please do me a favour and spare him yer sarcasm. He is as lonely as ye are and like ye he's trying to hide it. Besides, Rowan has not left him for good, she's just…well, she's got her reasons." _Whatever those were._ _She had gone because she had needed some time on her own- understandable after the horrors of Kalpitiya- in order to find herself again but it rather seems that she was losing herself more and more on this trip._

"So is that the reason why ye're here?" Anamaria frowned in sudden understanding; she had already wondered why Bill had accompanied Jack to Samaná when he should have been with his family in Port Royal instead. She shook her head. "Oh my, don't tell me ye've left yer family because of Jack? Because he's _lonely_?"

"Well, actually that's a long story but to cut it short- yes..."

"Ye're absolutely mad! Daft like Jack! Bill, think about it! I can still remember the first time ye came here; ye told me stories about yer little son ye had to leave behind in England, missing him a lot. And now that ye've finally found him ye're about to throw it all away and leave the place where ye belong because of the bloody scallywag Jack Sparrow who doesn't even know to appreciate it?"

"I told ye it's a long story and I considered my decision well. Blood is not thicker than the call of the sea and Will is still a stranger to me- a stranger who doesn't even try to take the trouble to understand the complicated ways of my life but demands that I accept his- while Jack is my friend. I am right where I belong."

"I just hope ye won't regret yer decision one day," Anamaria sighed.

"I won't, don't worry. Besides, I'm old enough to know what I'm doing." Bill was damned sure he wouldn't regret to have left Will's idyllic-hypocritical family behind, he was through with having to fake propriety and weighing his words, but he wasn't that sure about the plan slowly forming in his mind. After all, he would have to lie to Jack although he had sworn himself never to do that again. Well, actually it wasn't lying- it was more like failing to mention that he was clandestinely taking steps to get him and Rowan back together since that was probably the best for everyone involved in this tragedy. "Now, dear Ana, would ye please be so kind to fetch me feather, ink and paper 'cause I need to write a letter to yer husband."


	13. Life at sea

Chapter 13- Life at sea

Unlike his brothers, Rafael Garcia was not a hot-blooded Spanish macho who thought every problem could be solved with the fists; he believed in using his head instead. Therefore he had not joined Ramiro, Ramon and Raul when they had rushed to give Captain Jack Sparrow a good bashing for no reason but misplaced family pride. After all, that had been Anamaria's matter and his sister was definitely not a helpless, frightened woman. She could care for herself as she had proven many times before. Senor Turner's reaction had impressed him, the fast and yet very controlled movement that had sent Raul to the ground. He admired men who kept a cool head and reacted both effectively and precisely.

Rafael was not a fighter, he wasn't strong enough. He wasn't a good sailor either although he definitely was skilled at navigation. He liked numbers, calculations, the secrets of mathematics. He also liked books; he was the family's bookworm and probably too intelligent to spent his life on a peninsula with no civilization but a colony of smugglers, teaching their children to read and write. And though he had never made an no attempt to leave there was a silent longing in his heart to see more of this world- of course without having to climb the rigging of one of his father's smuggling vessels in order to take down the sails during a storm. He'd rather be a passenger than a sailor thus he would have plenty of time to write down his observations of the stars or foreign coasts, but his biggest dream was to study in one of the Old World's famous universities, to meet people who didn't mistake great philosophers like Plato for a new brand of rum. Sometimes it was very frustrating to be a member of a chaotic but loveable and nevertheless ignorant family clan of smugglers.

Jack noticed the hidden frustration in Rafael's eyes and he knew he'd found the man he was looking for. The young man would not be hard to persuade because he had already figured him out. He also knew what he would have to promise him in order to reach his agreement.

"Think about it, Rafael. I'll give ye the chance to circumnavigate the world, see uncharted coasts…"

"Si, Capitano Sparrow, I really appreciate your offer but," Rafael sighed heavily, "you should know that I wasn't born to be a pirate- in fact I wasn't even born to be a smuggler. Unfortunately I'm not a good sailor so I fear I won't be any use for you at all."

"Ah, I'm not looking for a good sailor- there are plenty of them aboard the Pearl but none of them is good with numbers. So what I need is a reliable guy who does know how to give each of them an equal share of our plunder without me having to waste my time with that. Now what d'ye say? Of course the equal share goes for ye as well and all I ask of ye is doing me a little favor once we're reaching Lima, savvy?"

"Lima?"

"Aye, Lima. That's in Peru."

"I know; it is in fact the capitol of the Spanish Viceroyalty." Rafael was lost in thoughts for a moment, dreaming of the famous Spanish Gold Coast and old Inca empires, then he raised a brow at Jack. "Are you trying to find the legendary El Dorado?"

"Nah," Jack chuckled. El Dorado was a legend and no one knew better than him what it took to create a legend- it started with a rumor someone picked up and the more the rumor was spread the more it lost truth and became absurd. Like him vanishing from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company… well, he had escaped them- that much was true- but it always sounded as if he simply had had to snap his fingers to disappear when in reality he had spent a few painful hours with these agents. Grimacing he rubbed the pirate brand on his arm. "Some legends should remain what they are- legends."

"Ah, and what about the favor you ask me to do, Capitano Sparrow?"

"Just a tiny little, almost unimportant thing. I want ye to pretend ye're a Spaniard."

"Well, um… but **I am** a Spaniard."

Jack beamed cheerfully. "Oh, well that's good, ain't it? Then it should be no problem for ye, aye?"

"Si Senor, naturalmente." Rafael was exited; he couldn't believe that the famous Captain Jack Sparrow had actually asked him to come aboard the Black Pearl and see the world, and all he had to do was to keep his books. He should have wondered about that- Anamaria would have guessed that Jack had something else in mind, something he hadn't revealed yet. But Rafael was a bit naïve and Anamaria wasn't there. However, he could not accept Jack's offer without talking to his father first.

After Rafael had left the cabin, Bill cleared his throat to get Jack's attention. The pirate captain turned around to face him with a broad grin.

"He's a good guy, ain't he?"

"Aye, but I wonder if ye can fool his father that easily- or are ye gonna tell him what ye have in mind with his son?" When Jack remained silent, Bill continued with a sigh. "No, of course not. Probably you're not gonna tell anybody 'bout yer plan 'till we're in Lima…" And he could understand that. Jack had become extremely cautious since the mutiny, scarcely telling anything to his crew. They tolerated that without complaint although the crew of a pirate ship usually had its say in all the things that mattered to them, but apparently they had decided not to bother their eccentric captain with their own poor ideas as long as his quirky ways promised them fortune and fame, and this promise he had kept many times. Also, despite calling them names when barking orders, he was very popular as a captain due to the general fairness with which he treated his crew.

"Talking about telling things," Jack interrupted his friend's thoughts, "when did **you **intend to tell me why ye went to see Ana two nights ago?"

Bill had seen it coming- there was almost no way to hide anything from Captain Jack Sparrow. He shrugged. "Well, I wasn't trying to keep that a secret. Ask me and I'll tell ye."

"Aye, that's just what I did- I asked ye why ye crept away to meet Anamaria two nights ago?"

"I wanted to find out what she knows about Rowan given that her husband is still first mate on the Jewel." Bill answered matter-of-factly.

"Ah."

The silence that followed was almost deafening. Jack tried hard to hide his mixed emotions and not to burst out with all the questions that flashed through his mind. Finally Bill continued.

"Well, unfortunately Marris doesn't write much about Rowan in his letters- only that they're still roaming the Asian Seas…"

"That's enough. Listen Bill, I don't want you to interfere. Either she comes back to me on her own free will or she doesn't, savvy?"

"Aye Captain. I merely wanted to know whether she's alright 'cause I care for her too."

Jack raised a brow as if wondering how much his friend cared about Rowan, then he got up with a shrug and put on his red brocade coat.

"Anyway, I've got an appointment with Senor Garcia. Gotta tell him not to worry 'bout dear Rafael 'cause he's in the best of hands with me."

Bill followed Jack, curious if his grandiose brocade coat could impress the patriarch of the Garcia clan who was already awaiting them. However, Vittorio wouldn't come straight to the point. First he offered his guests a glass of wine, then he asked Consuelo to bring them a small snack because he considered it unwise to debate with an empty stomach. The snack was almost a meal consisting of small fried fish, shrimps in garlic, fried green plantains, empanadas filled with minced meat, bread and olives. After that a strong black coffee was served and Vittorio opened his box of fine cigars. While they enjoyed a good smoke they engaged in small talk, not mentioning the reason why they had come together.

Then Vittorio put some bottles on the table, all containing rum. "Please try the rum and let me know which one you prefer."

Jack didn't have to be told twice and he even pretended to be a great connoisseur of rum- well, at least he could tell good rum from bad. It didn't fail to impress Vittorio though when he chose the very same rum that was also the Spaniard's first choice.

"Congratulations, Capitano Sparrow, you certainly have an extraordinary good taste. So tell me now why you chose my son Rafael to join your crew. Why not Ramiro, Ramon or Raul? After all, they are able-bodied sailors while Rafael is not."

"Aye, but Ramiro, Ramon and Raul are all married and have a family to care for while Rafael is… um, unattached." _Free_ might have been an even better word but probably not in the presence of the patriarch of a large family clan who was extremely proud of his nine children and an almost incalculable crowd of grandchildren. Also it was definitely wiser not to mention that he considered Vittorio's three oldest sons to be incorrigible Spanish machos he didn't trust as far as he could spit a rambutan stone. He just didn't want to wake up one morning and realize that he was dead because something he said had hurt their sense of family honor. Better be safe than sorry.

"That is a good reason. Nevertheless, I'm still wondering what use Rafael might be for you."

"Well, I need a capable purser aboard the Pearl and yer son is very talented with numbers while I'm not." Jack said casually.

"I see- and what's the benefit for Rafael in this deal?"

"Senor Garcia, mate," Jack gave him a puzzled glance as if the Spaniard had gone senile, "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy? So don't ye ever ask again what's the benefit for yer son to go sailing with **me** 'cause I'll give him the chance to learn a thing or two for life and to see a bit of the world. I understand that's what he wants. I also understood that he's old enough to make his own decisions but," he leaned back in his chair and raised his hands defensively only to drop them an instant later, pretending to be too bored with the whole matter, "I might have been wrong. If he has to ask daddy before making a decision there's no use for him aboard the Pearl. So, tell him I've changed me mind- his brothers will think that mighty amusing though."

"No, no, un momento por favor." Vittorio begged. "Don't get me wrong, Capitano Sparrow, I was only worrying about Rafael's safety because after all, you are a pirate and your business is even riskier than the smuggler's trade."

Jack shrugged indifferently but his lips had curled up in a wry half smile. "Well then, go 'n pamper him if that's alright to you. I couldn't care less." Of course that was a lie, he still needed a reliable Spaniard to carry out his plan and Rafael was a good choice- but Vittorio didn't need to know that.

"So, given that I let him sail away with you what profit is there in for me?"

"A hungry mouth less to feed."

"Bastardo!" Vittorio gasped taken aback. "Mind your words, Capitano, I never had problems with that. Now lets stop beating about the bush- we're both business men and Rafael has been keeping my books for years therefore so it is not too much to ask for to get something in return for letting him join your crew of scallywags. I think ten percent of your plunder will be fair enough."

Jack got up from his chair and pranced to the window, looking out he said. "Well, of all the boats I see in the bay only two or three are seaworthy- except for the Pearl of course- and these boats are Ana's; the pretty sloop I gave her when Nando was born. Face the fact, Senor Garcia, yer business is on the decline. Yer ships are old and hardly seaworthy, and if Ana hadn't returned home from Asia with all her Asian connections, ye'd only be selling rum in Hispaniola. And, _Senor_, the sole reason that Ana could return home from Asia with connections is that I took her there, savvy? So if there's still the question which of us deserves to get 10 percent from the other it would definitely be me. But," he flashed Vittorio a golden smile, "I'm a generous man. I'm willing to take yer son aboard my ship, show him the word and give him an equal share if ye stop moaning **you **want something from **me**."

Unbelievingly the Spaniard shook his head. "You are trying to cheat me."

"Pirate." Jack gave Bill a signal to leave and walked to the door. "Thanks for yer hospitality, Senor Garcia, the rum was excellent..."

"Un momento Capitano Sparrow- what about Rafael?"

The pirate stopped, giving the impression as if he had to think hard what to do with Rafael. "Well, tell him to embark tomorrow at sunrise. I'm sure I'll find a job for him aboard the Pearl."

Vittorio was rendered speechless. Jack had been twisting and turning his words for his own purpose thus actually managing to make the Spaniard believe he was doing him a favor.

After three days at sea Rafael already regretted his decision to leave home and that had nothing to do with the pirates playing practical jokes on him. He had read about strange rituals among sailors so he tolerated their jest since most of them were of a good-humored kind, and he had also known it wouldn't be easy for an outsider like him to be accepted by the crew. But what he had not calculated was seasickness. The rocking movement of the ship caused endless nausea, no matter how many times he emptied his stomach.

The first day he had still thought that would pass at the end of the day but after a sleepless night and feeling really miserable in the morning he only wanted to indulge in self-pity. He didn't even waste a thought about documenting the observations he would make on this journey simply because there was nothing worth to document but him puking over the rail at the wrong side of the ship. The crew had their laugh though. So he had stayed in his cabin, not at all excited about the adventure of his life anymore. On the third day of constant misery he even considered asking Captain Sparrow to take him back home… if only he hadn't feared the mockery of his brothers, or- even worse- Anamaria's. No, he'd rather die at seasickness than have her calling him a loser, a coward and a weakling. Despite the fact that he was one year her senior he had always admired his little sister for being so much tougher than him although she was _just_ a girl. It was for her he suffered silently so she could be proud of him one day.

Then, on the fourth day, the previously favorable wind died down and the ship drifted languidly with the current. Rafael's stomach greeted the calm; for the first time since he came aboard he felt at ease with himself and his environment. The crew, however, got bored soon. Some of them used the unexpected break to engage themselves in fishing while others gathered around the main mast to play a game of cards, whereas a few pirates had something more entertaining in mind.

It was Dobson who spotted their newest crewmember on deck, for once not hanging over the railing and puking although his complexion was still slightly green. He walked up to Rafael and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pretending to be his best friend, and the naïve guy actually swallowed that trustingly. So he led him to the galley where Wilkins was just preparing dinner. On the way he span a yarn about rituals a sailor had to go through when crossing a certain line like the equator, and that a very special ritual was awaiting him.

Rafael believed him simply because he had no idea where they were but if he had used his brains he would have known that they could possibly not be anywhere near the equator. That would have spared him a lot of trouble. At least it would have spared him sitting on the main yard, covered with chicken blood and feathers, while the cheerful crew shouted '_Jump_!' at him.

Captain Jack Sparrow took notice of the sudden turmoil on deck so he left his cabin to see what was going on. The sight he was greeted with was absolutely absurd. A bloody oversized chicken was sitting on the main yard and Parrot was circling around its head. The oversized chicken was Rafael Garcia- however he had gotten up there- and he didn't look too happy about being the love interest of a mad parrot. Actually, he looked scared shitless. Most of the pirates were encouraging him to jump while others were taking up bets whether he would do that or not, and Silvers was just about to chase Dobson around the main mast in order to beat him up.

A white chicken feather came flying from above and landed straight in front of Jack's feet on the black planks. He picked it up with a sigh- he hated calms because they merely got pirates up to mischief and though he hated being a spoilsport he couldn't tolerate such things aboard his ship.

"Bloody hell! What d'ye thing ye're doing here?" Jack barked and at once there was silence aboard the Pearl.

"Crossing the line ceremony, Capt'n." Dobson sneered with a sly grin.

"Ah, and what line have we been crossing recently?"

Dobson shrugged indifferently.

"Besides, the ceremony is job of the bo'sun but as far as I know you're just a plain sailor."

"Does that matter? We just wanted to have some fun and it's not unusual to jest about a new crewmember…"

"Now lemme have some fun with ye, mate!" Silvers interrupted as his fist connected with Dobson's chin thus sending him to kiss the planks.

Jack tsked. "Mr Silvers, that was not very nice."

"Sorry Capt'n, but the bloody bastard did deserve that; he's a constant nuisance."

"Though ye're definitely right with that ye're not in the position to decide who deserves what aboard my ship, savvy?" He should have sounded more rebuking but he failed due to his deep dislike of Dobson who was indeed a constant nuisance ever since the day he had signed on. Nevertheless he helped to unpopular guy back to his feet. "Well then, Mr Dawson…"

"Dobson, Sir, me name's Dobson."

"Stop interrupting me or I'll let Silvers have his way with ye. And besides it's **Captain**, not Sir."

"Aye, Captain!"

"Now, about this crossing the line ceremony. I've never heard of one that includes a newcomer dressed in blood and feathers in addition to having to jump from the main yard-although that really is a highly imaginative idea. But what's wrong with the good ol' ceremony of baptizing the landlubber by having some water flung over his head?"

"Well, me thought the fine Spaniard deserved something better than that."

"Another one who thinks he's in the position to decide who deserves what aboard **my** ship." Jack rolled his eyes and looked to the sky, then he faced Dobson again. "Fortunately **yer** thoughts are of no concern here. Ye want a crossing the line ceremony? Ye'll get one. Mr Silvers! Go 'n help Rafael to get down from the main yard so that the crew can baptize him. Mr _Dawson_, you will scrub the deck after said baptism and I swear I'll make ye lick the planks with yer spiteful tongue if I find only one single bloody feather left." He pinned the feather he had picked up in Dobson's hair and patted his cheek with a not too friendly grin. "Did I make meself unmistakably clear, gents?"

"Aye, Captain!" Silvers agreed and Dobson mumbled something similar but far less enthusiastic. His glance spoke volumes of hatred that Jack wasn't unaware of.

Jack attended to the crossing-whatever-line ceremony and when Rafael finally stood soaking wet and looking really sheepish but clean again on deck he ordered an extra share of rum for his crew. Then he left the merry party, not in the mood to join in. He wanted to be alone in order to ponder about what had just transpired. Though it wasn't news to him that Dobson wasn't particularly fond of him- and vice versa- he had never seen hatred in the eyes of any of his crewmembers before; at least not since Barbossa had initiated the mutiny all those years ago. He was worried. Should he have punished Dobson harder? He'd picked up some comments made on the quiet that Dobson had deserved a flogging for being so disrespectful towards the captain, but he didn't believe that flogging was a way to gain respect since respect had nothing to do with fear. Or mayhap he was just too soft... he shuddered involuntarily and poured himself a glass of rum to wash away the stale taste that thought had left in his mouth.

A knock at the door startled him and he was even more startled when a group of pirates walked in, led by Gibbs. His fingers felt for the hilt of his sword, expecting the worst since this situation was kind of a déjà-vu, only with different people. It reminded him of the day of the mutiny when Barbossa and his miscreants from hell had entered his cabin while he'd been asleep, beating him out of bed and dragging him on deck. But they hadn't been so decent as to knock before entering; they had just kicked down the door. Did mutineers knock?

Jack tried to hide his feeling of unease and leant back in his chair, one hand still on the hilt of his sword; it gave him a feeling of security. Whatever they had in mind, they wouldn't get him without a fight. Not this time.

"What can I do for ye, gentlemen?"

Gibbs stepped forward, nervously kneading his fingers. "Beg yer pardon for disturbin' ye, Capt'n, but we really need to talk to ye if ye don't mind."

Silvers was a definitely more frank. "Well, we need to talk to you about that wanker Dobson. Ye know, we don't like him. None of us does and we're damned sure he's up to something."

"Aye, Cotton's heard 'im sayin' kinda mutinous stuff like what he'd change if he'd be captain of the Pearl," Marty agreed, "ain't it so, Mr Cotton?"

Cotton nodded. Parrot just ruffled his feathers and remained silent, apparently offended that the pirates had 'killed' the pretty big bird on the main yard.

"We wouldn't listen to that stuff but there might be a few aboard that don't know yer quirks as good as we do…"

"Quirks?" Jack raised a quizzical eyebrow at Mr Gibbs, still not quite sure what to think of the situation.

"Yer… um, sometimes mysterious ways that are not so easy to understand for someone who doesn't know ye well, given that even those who know ye well don't understand them at times…"

"What Mr Gibbs wants to say is that we're loyal while some of the newies might be tempted to listen to Dobson, therefore we should stop him from spreadin' such mutinous talk." Marty explained.

Cotton grimaced and made a nasty gesture, suggesting to simply cut out Dobson's tongue like his own had been cut out.

"Aye, and if ye ask me," Silvers moved closer only to thump on the table with his fist, "I'd say throw the wanker overboard. Maroon 'im."

"Ta, Mr Silvers, ye made yerself clear." Jack was in a dilemma. Although it would probably be the right thing- according to the Code- to maroon Dobson he simply couldn't bring himself to do that. He wasn't fond of him, in fact he was a troublemaker, and he wouldn't even pity him if something happened to him, and yet he just could not condemn anybody to being marooned. It wasn't for Dobson's sake but for his own. He still knew what it had felt like being stranded on that godforsaken spit of land, beaten, abandoned, scared, watching Barbossa sail away with his ship; he'd never felt so helpless before. Of course couldn't tell that to Silvers or anyone else of his crew. They would think he was too soft and then they'd lose their respect or whatever kept them following his orders.

Before he could decide what to do with Dobson they were interrupted by another pirate entering the scene. It was Wilkins, the ship's cook, and he dragged along a rather unhappy looking young man whose face seemed somehow familiar to Jack.

"Capt'n! I just found this stowaway in me galley. Caught him while he was trying to nick some bread." Wilkins gave the stowaway a hard shove in the back so that he ended up in front of Jack's table, crouching on his knees.

"Oh no," Jack rolled his eyes as he recognized the man kneeling in front of him, "why d'ye Garcias always have to come in crowds?"

"Actually, Capt'n, two Garcias don't really make a crowd." Marty threw in helpfully.

"And being just a tad too tall to be used as a cannon ball doesn't change the fact ye're a midget." Jack retorted while he kept his eyes on the stowaway. It was the youngest son of the Garcia clan- Santos, if he remembered his name correctly. "However, two of ye is just one too much. So, what d'ye have to say to yer own defense, son? Why did ye creep aboard me ship?"

The lad shot him a defiant glance. "You've chosen the wrong Garcia! Rafael is a bookworm!"

"Ah, and ye're an experienced pirate?"

"No," Santos had to admit and though he bit his lips the look of his eyes remained defiant, "but I'm nevertheless a better sailor than Rafael. And unlike him I can handle a sword."

"Well, it seems to me that hiding in the hold is probably not the appropriable way to prove yer skills as a sailor. Besides, as ye might have noticed I already have an able-bodied crew, but then again ye've been hiding in the hold so that might have slipped yer attention." Jack scratched his chin. "So what to do with ye now?"

"Please don't send me back. I want to join your crew and become a pirate; I want an adventurous life."

"We could keelhaul 'im- that would be an adventure to 'im." Marty suggested.

"Aye, and it would teach him not to steal the bread I just baked." Wilkins added.

"Make 'im eat the bread, **that** would teach 'im not to steal it."

The two pirates exchanged fiery glances so Jack had to interfere before they could start a fight in his cabin. He really hated calms and wished for the wind to blow again.

"Thanks for all yer inspiration, gents, but I prefer ye lock him in the brig now- with a piece o' bread."

"You want to lock me in the brig?" Santos gasped shocked and for the first time since he had been brought here the defiant look vanished from his face; he looked young and scared now.

"Aye, that's what I just said. Ye're an attentive listener, lad."

"But my father claimed you're a good man! Why do you want to lock my in the brig then?"

"Well, the reason I wanna lock ye in the brig is that **I am** indeed a good man- I'm not feeding ye to the sharks, for instance." Jack made a very bored gesture. "Marty! Wilkins! Take our dear guest away."

He would deal with Santos Garcia's fate later; a night in the brig would do him no harm but mayhap teach him not to play stowaway on a pirate ship. At the moment there was another nuisance that occupied his attention. Dobson. And Silvers still waited for an answer.

Suddenly heard a soft crackling outside, the sound of wind meeting canvas, toying with it playfully first and then a tad more demanding.

"All hands on deck!" Jack shouted immediately. Finally the wind was back. He hurried out of his cabin and nearly bumped into Bill who had been- doing what? Eavesdropping? For a scarce second he stopped and shot his friend a puzzled gaze but then he headed on to the afterdeck to bark orders at his crew.

He was still pondering about that when he stood at the helm later, the black sails of his Pearl filled with a fresh wind. The sky was painted in the dramatic colors of a Caribbean sunset, shades raging from orange to crimson that glowed in contrast to a few dark clouds, and somewhere in the east the first stars appeared at the horizon. But Jack's mind was too consumed with thoughts to take notice of the beautiful scenery.

Could it be that Bill had had the same idea when he had seen Gibbs and the others entering his cabin, had he also thought of a possible mutiny and therefore been lurking outside? However, the loyalty of his crew had taken Jack by surprise. They had came to warn him of a troublemaker and not because they had been up to mutiny. Alas, he still didn't know what to do about Dobson. Marooning him would be the easiest way to get rid of him but he had certain objections against this easy way…

His thoughts were interrupted when Rafael Garcia came walking up the stairs to the afterdeck.

"Perdón, Capitano Sparrow, I don't want to disturb you, but…"

Jack rolled his eyes, _then why the hell d'ye do it?_

"…I've been told that my brother Santos has been caught hiding on your ship and is therefore locked in the brig. Is that true?"

"Yep- wanna join him?"

Rafael gave him a confused look as if doubting his own ears. "You must be joking, Senor."

"Pirate!" Jack smirked but his eyes were dark and thoughtful. "Ye still have a lot to learn. So what d'ye want? Putting in a good word for yer dear brother?"

"Si, Senor Capitano." Rafael said eagerly. "Santos is young, adventurous and high-spirited but he definitivamente didn't mean to harm anyone aboard."

"Of course not." Jack agreed sarcastically since a single young adventurer could possibly not been seen as a threat to a crew of swashbuckling scallywags, though he kept that to himself. Instead he assured Rafael he had no intentions to harm Santos either and that a night in the brig would only cool his temper. Mayhap there was even use for a guy like him aboard the Pearl- his thoughts strayed off to the tremendous treasure waiting for him to raid and concerning his plan a Spaniard more in his crew would only be welcome. Besides, if Rafael continued being seasick he wouldn't make it to Lima and the younger Garcia had not looked sickly green in the face therefore he might be a good alternative. So he comfortingly patted Rafael's shoulder and told him not to worry about Santos.

Jack gave over the helm to Gibbs then, and strolled around the Pearl, looking for Silvers. He wanted to have a word with him regarding Dobson. Finally he found him in the mess where he was drinking rum and chatting with some fellow pirates.

Silvers looked up in surprise when he saw Jack entering the mess; it had been a while since the Captain had last come here. In former times, before the mutiny, he had often sat together with the crew but then he had exchanged loyal men for Barbossa and his miscreants. After that he had become more reserved, not letting anyone close to him. Nowadays he preferred to drink alone in his cabin when he was not at the helm, his favorite place.

"Jack! Come and have a glass rum with us." Silvers said cheerfully, but then he bit his lip, remembering that only a few people aboard were allowed to address him in such a familiar way, actually just Gibbs and Bootstrap Bill. Tonight, Jack didn't seem to mind although he hesitated for a moment before he accepted Silvers offer.

Silvers knew Jack quite a long time. He had started his piracy career being ship's boy aboard the Black Pearl and had sailed with Captain Jack Sparrow for more than four years before the whole crew had been dismissed. He hadn't understood it then, what it had been all about on that day, and the bitter accusations either, but that had never affected his admiration for the man himself. So when he had seen the Black Pearl a few months later he had hurried to the docks in anticipation- only to meet monsters. The raid of the port by Barbossa and his fiends from hell had made him grow old in a single night; his hair had turned grey. From this day on he was called Silvers. Jack hadn't even recognized him at first look when they had bumped into each other in the Faithful Bride more than ten years later, after he had finally gotten back his beloved Pearl. Nonetheless, Silvers had not hesitated to immediately sign on with him again and he still didn't regret it, no matter if things weren't like they used to be. They had changed- time had changed them, had left scars though most of them were invisible.

Jack clinked glasses with Silvers and let the golden liquid run down his throat. He had to chuckle when Anamaria's infuriated face popped up in his mind's eye. She hadn't been too pleased about the price he had negotiated with Vittorio, even called him a cheat. He wouldn't agree to that just because he liked to get good quality for little money and besides, there were always two people who made a deal- the one who named the price and the other who accepted it. He really wasn't to blame for Vittorio accepting his offer. However, Ana had been decent enough not to slap him in her father's presence since that would have only cast a bad light on Vittorio's reputation as a business man.

After another sip of rum he bent conspiratorially over to Silvers. "I want ye to keep a sharp eye on Dobson."

"So yer not gonna maroon him?" A disappointed tone was in his voice.

"Not yet. I'd rather find out first whether he's really up to something and if anyone else is involved in that, then we can," Jack shuddered at the word, "maroon him. Or we intentionally forget him in the next port. Will ye see to that for me?"

"Aye, Jack." This time, Silvers chose consciously the familiar form of address to underline he did not understand the request as a captain's order; to him it was more like a personal plea he would willing comply.

"Oh good." Jack flashed him a golden smile before ordering another round.

He didn't stay long in the mess, just long enough to spin a yarn or two before he left, heading for his cabin. The moment he opened the door he knew at once that he wasn't alone but he didn't mind. He had told Bill to come here whenever he felt the need for a bit more privacy than the crew's quarters were granting him, given that there was little room for meditation. Jack had to admit that he actually liked having him around even if they just sat together in perfect silence, or particularly then.

Since Samaná it had also became a habit to enjoy a good smoke together- fortunately Anamaria didn't know that he had really cheated her father about the price for the cigars. Well, before they would return to that place the dust had settled on that matter.

"Ye've been in the mess?" Bill asked though it was more a statement than a question.

Jack sat down and rested his feet on the edge of the table, legs crossed. "Aye, needed to have a word with Silvers about Dobson," he slurred casually.

"Ye should do that more often."

"What? Telling ye the truth ye already know?"

"Seeking the company of yer crew. Ye know, there're some really loyal souls amongst them and I daresay ye're not aware of that fact."

"Ye mean as aware of that fact as ye are, given ye've been the one lurking outside me cabin when some of me loyal crewmembers came to pay me a visit?"

Bill's face darkened with sorrow. "I know, that probably was not a very well-considered reaction but when I saw them gathering today, heading for yer cabin, it was like a flashback and I failed to think clearly. I should've known them better and I'm sorry I did 'em wrong but…"

Jack didn't want to hear it. They had never talked about the mutiny and as far as it concerned him there was no need for it either. "Ta, I really appreciate yer best intentions to protect me but why don't ye just let sleeping dogs lie when there's no use to wake them?"

"Because the dogs are not sleeping well ever since then, they're having nightmares…"

"I don't."

Bill ignored Jack's objection and continued. "…they don't come as frequently as they used to but there are still nights like this when ye can't keep 'em at bay; the memories are burned forever and too deep in our souls. Ye can't erase them by ignoring them as they always find a way to creep back into yer mind, catching ye off-guard when least expected. I know what I'm talkin' 'bout."

"So ye're having nightmares 'cause ye still feel guilty for betraying me?" Jack cocked his head and raised a mocking eyebrow at his friend. "That's interesting."

Bill imitated his look. "It's also interesting ye're sleeping with a pistol under yer pillow."

Momentarily at a loss for words the pirate captain leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms defensively across his chest while shooting Bootstrap a defiant glare. "That doesn't mean a thing," he slurred then.

Bill got up and helped himself to the cigars. He lit one, and puffing at it he thoughtfully watched the smoke hovering until it disappeared, pondering whether to drop this topic or be persistent. After all, it still haunted him, sixteen years later. He'd learned to deal with it- meditation had helped to make the memories manageable but not undone, never undone. There were still nights he woke up from a nightmare, hearing Jack scream…

… _although he hadn't screamed then; he just stared at me with an utter lack of understanding not knowing what the hell was going on until they started to beat it into him. They shoved him around, calling him names, mocking him for being such a trusting, naïve fool, for not being reckless, not blood-thirsty enough to be a good pirate. Barbossa just laughed; he laughed with malicious joy to see Jack down, battered and bruises, and only then, when he was already down, he scornfully kicked at him, treating him like scum. Jack didn't scream although it sounded as if Barbossa's kick had broken at least one rib. He didn't scream. All he did was staring at me with these dark eyes of his that showed so much hurt and pain- no fear, no, he wouldn't do Barbossa **that **favor. I had to look away, not able to endure the silent plea that was also in his eyes, begging me to do something, anything. Alas, there was nothing I could do. Taking Jack's side would've only let to the certain death of both of us, something I very much wanted to avoid; I had different plans… then I heard the cracking sound of a whip Bo'sun was swinging._

_'Enough! Keep to the Code if ye wanna discipline him!' I yelled to stop them from torturing Jack furthermore. _

_Barbossa hesitated, apparently enjoying the show too much to stop it but not all of his crew were like him; some of them did respect the Code._

_'Bootstrap's right!' Ragetti said, rubbing his wooden eye as if he just had a brainwave (highly unlikely, given that his brain would fit in a nutshell). 'The Code has to be considered.'_

_'Ah, the Code- of course we want to keep to the Code, don't we?' Barbossa shot me an evil grin, knowing I was- would ever be- on Jack's side. 'So, Bootstrap, what kind of punishment would you suggest according to the Code?'_

There had been only one way to spare Jack from torture; Bill had seen it in Barbossa's jaundiced eyes that he was still nowhere near half as done with his friend but he would keep to the Code if it suited him. However, it had been **him** who had spoken the judgment upon Jack, it had been **his** words that finally made him walk the plank.

_'Maroon him.' _These two words still echoed in his mind and made him feel incredibly guilty although he had had a plan to save Jack. Unfortunately, Barbossa had figured him out...

Bill sat down on the table next to where Jack had rested his feet and faced him, their eyes locked for a moment. Hidden behind the masks and legends that made the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, behind all his outlandish appearance, eccentric behaviour, strange quirks and drunken foolishness, behind the many layers of coverage he had wrapped himself in for protection, behind all that was a man who had been tremendously hurt.

"I'm so sorry," Bill mumbled quietly.

"Hm." Jack didn't even bother to crack a joke like he usually would have done; he wasn't in the mood. He, too, had been thinking about the mutiny and though he was long over blaming Bill alone for what had happened he still felt hurt, betrayed. In a low tone he said, "Damn, ye didn't even lift a little finger to stop him, instead ye gave him the wonderful idea to maroon me."

"Right, that had been my idea, but..."

"Ah, ye admit it. Ye're proud of it?"

"Blast! Ye know I'm not!" Bill burst out with a desperate edge in his voice. He reached out in order to reassuringly squeeze Jack's shoulder but the daft guy instinctively backed away, shooing his hand away.

Alas, it wasn't wise to back away with your feet still on the table, sitting on a chair tipped backwards- Jack had to lean that and he made a mental note to remember that in the future. Flailing his arms and kicking wildly for balance that was lost anyway he crashed to the floor with his chair, bringing Bill down too.

Later, neither of them knew why they had started fighting nor the reason for it. Mayhap that had been the only way to give vent to some long bottled up frustration, mixed emotions and hurt feelings since they set off a physical outburst of unspoken words expressed with fists and feet; mayhap they were just mad. However, it was definitely not a very well-advised way to deal with things but surprisingly it worked for them. After wrestling for a while, beating and kicking, trying to hurt each other, they ended up sitting breathlessly on the floor, Bill behind Jack, his arms flung tightly round his friend to stop him from struggling. He held him close until their breathing became even again.

"Oh bugger." Jack gasped and fell silent again, but the silence between them was no longer tense; it was rather like the breath of fresh and clear air after a heavy rain shower on a hot, sticky day. Nevertheless he was glad he didn't have to face Bill when he finally whispered almost inaudibly. "I'm sorry, too. Apparently ye had no other choice but to do what ye've done and what's right to ye."

Bill rested his head on Jack's shoulder, still holding him close although he had long stopped fidgeting. "Ye know, Jack, when the cold metal of gun barrel is pointed at the nape o' yer neck, opportunities for any sort of ill-advised interference are strictly limited. It wouldn't have improved the situation if I had opposed Barbossa; I had to play along. Dead men tell no tales but they're also hardly in the position to be of any help. I didn't want to let ye down. I knew the bearings of that island and I wanted to commandeer a long boat provided with supplies… Alas, Barbossa didn't trust me anymore since I stopped him flogging ye so Bo'sun became my nasty shadow, following me everywhere, keeping a sharp eye on every movement I made. My, that guy really was a pain in the neck."

"So ye really wanted to put things right then? Hm… Rowan mentioned something like that."

"Did she?"

Jack nodded scarcely noticeable. "Aye, even asked me to forgive ye."

Bill didn't need to ask whether he had forgiven him or not because of the rough way they had already settled that matter. "Well, I just hope next time we have to forgive each other we'll find a smarter way to solve our problems than trying to beat the other one black 'n blue. Besides, Pearl seems to like it better when we're not fighting but behaving decently."

It could have been by chance- since most people didn't believe in ships expressing their feelings- a change of the current or a gust of wind, but the ship had indeed been rocking harder when they had struggled. Now, as if the sea had calmed again, the rocking was much softer.

"Ye call that decent behaviour, snuggling up to me like ye do, ye father of an eunuch?" Jack mocked his friend and yet he didn't move away from Bill. He had been right, Pearl really liked the renewed bond between them; every plank of her seemed to hum inaudibly, radiating a feeling of contentment and warmth

"In deep respect to the our dark lady I will refrain from strangling ye. Anyway, I guess a glass of rum would be in order now."

"Rum!" Jack beamed cheerfully as he jumped to his feet, performing a grand gesture of eccentric welcome before he actually offered Bill a hand to help him up. "I knew there was a reason I like ye- I mightily appreciate yer brilliant ideas, mate."

-

Jack's mood improved with every mile they were heading south, towards Cape Horn. The prospect withstanding the forces of nature once again and the idea of another spectacular raid to add to his legendary pirate career made him almost forget Rowan- that matter wasn't closed for him though, only put aside. He dreamt of her sometimes but most of the time his mind was too consumed with life at sea, his job as captain of the Black Pearl or revising his plan over and over again to make sure every detail would be perfect. He had told his crew that an immense treasure was waiting for them without giving away any details, and his crew had apparently decided to trust him without asking too many questions, although he had not come to the point of trusting them completely; that would still take a while. Nevertheless, his trust in Bill had been restored- yet, deep in his heart and even throughout all the anger and frustration, he had never really lost faith in him. But now, after all their unspoken words and mixed emotions had finally come to a break, the bond between them had tightened.

First, Santos Garcia had been happy when he was released from the brig and accepted as a crewmember but he hadn't expected that meant having to scrub the deck every day or polish all the brass pieces until the eccentric Captain Jack Sparrow could admire his reflection. He had expected life aboard a pirate ship to be more exciting and he'd also wondered why pirates should care about a clean ship at all- he shouldn't have wondered aloud though. Gibbs had heard him and tweaked his ear, giving him a lesson about ships in general and the Pearl in particular; his ear still stung.

However, Gibbs was well aware of the fact that the Pearl was a very fine, sea-worthy vessel and it didn't surprise him that Jack was talking to her as if she was a person and not a ship since he was used to his captain's oddities, but he didn't comprehend why Bill shared this odd manner. On the other hand, Bootstrap Bill Turner was kind of a strange guy too; he had adopted some odd habits from the Chinese monks such as shadow-boxing in the early hours of the morning or sitting motionless on the spot, daydreaming (meditating, he called it). Gibbs didn't know what this should be good for so he took a surreptitiously swig from his bottle and prayed none of that would rub off on him. Anyway, Bill wasn't the only one with odd manners aboard the Pearl as she seemed to attract crowds of bizarre people. There was a mute among the crewmembers who had a parrot speaking for him, a young man with grey hair, a midget- and last but not least a new purser who was constantly seasick. Anyway he could cope with all that as long as there wasn't a woman aboard because having a woman aboard was frightful bad luck.

Mr Gibbs forgot to add himself to the list of people with odd manners for being a superstitious old seadog.

When Rafael Garcia had finally got used to the gentle waters of the Caribbean, the Pearl left the Caribbean waters and everything started anew; his stomach revolted again. He was seasick to the extend that Jack actually feared that seasickness would kill him one day and he would not allow him to spoil his plans by dieing. He still needed the Spaniard.

"Garcia!" He roared and rolled his eyes heavenwards when two men replied, "Aye, Capitano." The one sounded slightly annoyed in expectation of yet another boring task while the other had just been emptying his stomach over the rail once again so his voice was more feeble, scarcely audible.

Jack pointed his finger at Rafael. "You will go to see the ship's doc **right now**."

If possible, Rafael turned even paler than he already was.

Santos saw him leaving and grinned. "He's scared of needles."

Jack shot him an enervated gaze, then looked back to where Rafael had stood and noticed that the guy had actually managed to feed the fishes on the wrong side of the ship **again**. When would he ever learn that vomiting over the windward side was no good? Well, he didn't mind Rafael ruining his own clothes but Jack's tolerance for dirtying his ship was slowly wearing off. He turned to face Santos with a disgusted expression on his face, impatiently wagging his hands. "Stop grinning so stupidly, lad- clean up the mess yer dear brother's left behind."

Rafael couldn't help but to shudder involuntarily when Bill first had suggested acupuncture to cure his seasickness; he had expected it to be very unpleasant if not extremely painful to get some needles pinned into his skin so he had politely rejected that idea and avoided the ship's doc like the plague from that day on. Alas, he had no choice but to pay him a visit now given that he was an obedient guy who would never dare to disobey a captain's order.

Later Captain Sparrow arched a brow at him, a half smile curling up his lip as he casually stated. "Ye look like a sea urchin."

The crew thought that very funny and burst out laughing while Rafael was embarrassed; he knew that the glittering needles in his scalp didn't improve his looks. But then he noticed that the nausea had finally ebbed, he didn't feel the urge to throw up anymore. He was able to stand on deck without his insides having a party. In the end he joined in the crew's laughter.

However, after that event Bill's reputation as ship's doctor began to establish and even the ones aboard who had been skeptical about his methods (or superstitious, as in Gibbs case) started seeking his advice.

On their way heading southwards they happened to come upon a Portuguese vessel which they seized and plundered, then they sailed to the nearest port, Bahia, the capitol of the Portuguese colony, to spend the booty. The crew could use a bit of distraction, the usual drinking, brawling, gambling, cheating, finding comfort in the arms of a whore, before setting out for the long and hard passage around Cape Horn. They also needed some supplies. Jack took Rafael to visit the local merchants and receivers, and finally Garcia proved that he was worth his salt. He knew the actual value of their illegally achieved goods so Jack just had to bargain for a better price. Also, the splitting of the loot done more quickly than usual- much to the crew's pleasure- given Rafael's talent with numbers. Jack was glad he didn't have to deal with that anymore, calculations had definitely never been his favorite pastime though he could be quite calculating sometimes.

Actually, he had not been in the mood to accompany his crew for the usual debauchery ashore but Bill persuaded him, knowing that the crew would appreciate his presence. They liked to drink and chat with him, listen to the yarns he spun- and he was very good at spinning yarns, weaving reality, half-truths and his own lively imagination into incredible stories- but after that evening they swore they'd never ever play a game of cards with him.

"Well gents, lucky at cards…" Jack bit back the stupid unlucky in love part but collected the coins piled up in front of him, flashed his comrades a cheeky golden smile and altered the original phrase, "…money to buy love."

Then he swaggered off to a pretty wench who had kept her pretty eyes on him ever since he'd entered the tavern. It only took him a moment or two and she smilingly accepted his invitation to accompany him to a more private room on the upper floor of the tavern

Silently and very astounded the pirates watched their captain leave before someone broke the silence.

"My, what a lucky devil he is, our captain- wins at cards and gets the prettiest lass in town."

"Aye, so it seems. I do wonder though if he might have cheated."

Bill just chuckled- there was a reason why he'd never play any game with Jack anymore since Jack would always cheat when it came to cards or dices- perhaps he thought it would spoil his reputation to play fair. However, he had noticed that Jack had improved his skills in cheating, he did it in a very subtle, almost elegant way now so that no one was seeing though his game who hadn't known him for years.

The next morning Jack was back aboard the Pearl and supervised the report of his crew when suddenly he didn't miss an unpopular face.

"Where's…"

"Dawson?" Silvers interrupted helpfully while wiping off a blood smeared dagger on his breeches. There was no remorse in his voice when he simply stated, "'m afraid, Capt'n, but Mr Dawson fell behind."

Jack immediately got what had happened to the guy since it was obvious. Yet he didn't dwell on the fact that loyalty does not justify a cold-blooded murder, instead he merely corrected Silvers, "Dobson, mate, his name was Dobson."

Then he walked away, leaving Silvers pondering whether his captain had incidentally or deliberately confused Dobson's name just to annoy him. However, since there was no way to figure out Captain Jack Sparrow he just shrugged and concentrated on the daily routine; they were about to weigh anchor, the sails had to be set…

"Hold on!" Jack barked from the helm. "Where's me hat? We can't leave port without me hat."

"I'm sure it's in yer cabin, Capt'n. Ye didn't wear it when ye went ashore last night so it probably will be in yer cabin where ye left it."

"Aye, that might be a logical explanation, Mr Gibbs, but" Jack fell silent. If the hat had been in his cabin he would have put it on when going on deck, wouldn't he? However, delaying their departure just because he didn't know where his hat was seemed a tad exaggerated, even to him. After all, a hat was hardly in the position to walk off a ship all on its onesies. So he'd search his cabin later.

But the hat was not in his cabin, and when Jack went to bed at night he noticed that his pistol was gone too, the one he always kept under his pillow, the one he shot Barbossa with.

There are a number of potential sailing routes around the tip of South America; the Strait of Magellan between the mainland and Tierra del Fuego was a major but narrow passage used by most merchants. It was notorious for treacherous winds though, which can strike a vessel without warning, and given the narrowness of the route there was a significant risk of being driven onto the rocks.

The open waters of the Drake Passage south of Cape Horn provided by far the widest route, it offered ample sea room for maneuvering as winds change. It also was perhaps the most dangerous shipping passage in the world, many ships were wrecked and many sailors died, attempting to round the Horn; it was loved and hated by seamen. The intensity of atmospheric phenomena which surrounded it turned it unique and matchless, the unpredictable weather conditions and an almost hostile environment gave it an infamous reputation. Here, in the face of the forces of nature, man feels small and insignificant.

Captain Jack Sparrow however loved Cape Horn simply because he loved withstanding the forces of nature and prove his talents in sailing. Strong winds and rough seas were not a threat but a challenge for him; he had rounded the Horn many times without ever losing a single man.

This time, the Pearl reached Cape Horn after a number of calm but very cold days. The sun was shining from a clear blue sky, albatrosses circled in the air with large, motionless wings; a school of whales accompanied the ship. Rafael was overly excited. With the telescope almost glued to his eye he made observations, even screamed with delight when he saw some penguins sitting on the rocks ashore.

Jack grinned amused, remembering how excited he had been when seeing his first whale, or penguin, only he hadn't shown it. He was still quite young then but he didn't want anyone to think he was boyish, so he'd kept it to himself.

A subtle change of wind interrupted his thoughts and he scanned the horizon with worried eyes, knowing that weather conditions here could turn ugly in very short time. There was sort of an uncanny greenish _shade_ in the southeast as if a heavy storm was brewing, and the sea had already gotten a tad rougher. He ordered Santos Garcia to come down from the crow's nest in order to send a more experienced sailor up there, just in case.

The young Spaniard walked up to him with an accusing look on his face. "No icebergs. You've been jesting, right?"

Jack shook his head. "Boy, we're about 56° south so ice **is** a significant hazard in these waters. Just hope we don't have to come upon a bloody iceberg ere ye start believing me. Now go 'n help ol' Wilkins in the galley."

An hour later Jack's instinct had proven him right since the sky has clouded and the wind increased. He knew that there was probably a hard time in store for him so he quickly gulped down some food in the galley before taking over the helm again.

Weather conditions were rough and unpredictable at Cape Horn, everyone aboard knew that though none of them had ever experienced such a nasty storm as there was about to come.

The sky had darkened even more, lighting flashed the sky; the Pearl began to roll heavily in the waves. Jack gave orders to reef the sails.

"Scurry! Movement, I want movement! Bill, take the Garcia boys below!"

The heavy clouds opened to pour out icy-cold sleet that felt like needles on the skin.

"Damned, I wished I had a hat," he mumbled to himself before raising his voice. "Ye're sure that none of ye scallywags 've seen me hat?"

Those who still had the nerve to laugh, laughed. After they had left Bahia they had searched every inch of the Pearl for Jack's hat but it was gone and remained gone. It was a mystery though. They had not seen their captain wearing his hat when they had enjoyed a night ashore so it was unlikely he'd lost or simply forgotten it in port. However, there was no time to spend on the thought of what had become of an old hat when they had all hands full with lines and braces.

The storm got worse and the sea was like a seething cauldron of white-foaming water, the waves carried powdered snow along their crests.

"Captain! We gotta drop more canvas!" Gibbs shouted.

Jack ignored him. No one knew better than him how much his Pearl could stand and she was still far from having reached her limits. Yet the storm had not reached its peak either.

Gibbs took a swig from his flask, cursing, "Damned, he's mad. He'll kill us all. We really should drop canvas and sit out the bloody storm."

"Don't worry, Mr Gibbs. If any man could master a storm like this it's Jack."

The first mate shot a bewildered glance at Bootstrap Bill and wanted to believe that he was just as mad as Jack but then he noticed the stoic look on his face; he was calm and trusting.

It was one of the longest nights for Jack, although it was hard to tell whether it was night or day since all light seemed to have been drained and replaced by an almost unnatural twilight. The gale raged on for endless hours, wind and snow were biting his face, and his hands felt as if they were frozen to the wheel. Nevertheless he managed to keep Pearl steady, unfaltering in his faith in her, and she returned his faith by not letting him down.

Finally the storm ebbed, though that didn't mean the sea was calm now. She was still rough, the waves still high, crowned with foam and snow, and the Pearl was still rocking quite heavily, but it wasn't an inferno anymore. Now it was just like Cape Horn usually was- a dangerous, unpredictably passage.

There was a diffuse light from somewhere, like the dawning of a new day. It reflected in million tiny little ice crystals the Pearl was encrusted with, sparkling like diamonds. What a pretty lady she was, glittering and gleaming. Jack stood at the helm in awe, forgetting his weariness and the bitter cold for a moment.

But when he saw Bill walking up the stairs to the afterdeck, holding a mug of whatever in his hand, he hoped that whatever was in that mug was for him and it would be hot, even if it was only tea. He got pleasantly surprised.

"Is it rum I smell in there?" Warmth, wonderful, divine warmth floated though his chilled body, warming his insides as well as his stiff fingers when he took the mug and drank. A very contented expression lightened his face.

"Actually it's tea mixed with rum." Bill informed him, smilingly. "I thought ye could use something warm."

"Ah, ye're a good man William Turner." Jack muttered over the rim of the mug as he drank some more. Suddenly he felt dizzy and leant against the wheel for support; he didn't know how long he had been standing here, keeping the course though the storm, but now the rush of adrenalin in his blood was rapidly wearing off. He was exhausted.

"Take a rest, Jack, let me take over for a while," Bill offered gently and since Jack was much too tired to argue, he agreed.

"Aye, guess I'd better take a short nap... wake me for the forenoon watch."

Jack wrapped himself in all the blankets he could find and was fast asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, sleeping dreamlessly.

When he woke up it took him a few moments to realize where he was, who he was, and what had disturbed his sleep. He shook his head and smelled… food. At once he forgot about the disturbance because his stomach was really rumbling like hell.

"Whatever it is, give it to me," he growled as he sat up to greedily receive the bowl Bill was reaching him and gulped down a few hasty spoonfuls only to cough up with surprise a moment later. "Damned, what happened to Wilkins? It's eatable."

He ate slower now, apparently enjoying the food. Bill just grinned, not mentioning that he'd been the one who'd done the cooking since he had been extremely fed up with Wilkins' inedible muck.

"What's our current position?" Jack asked in between two bites, and when Bill told him, he almost choked on his food for the second time today. "That can't be! We possible can't have covered that many miles in only four or five hours."

He jumped to his feet and looked out of the windows to make sure it was about noon and, given the position of the sun, it was. Puzzled he scratched his head.

"'Twas dawn when I went to take a nap and I asked ye to wake me for the forenoon watch," he wondered aloud, shooting Bill a suspicious glance.

"Well, an' I woke ye just in time, didn't I?"

"But why…"

"Ye're wrong with the time when ye told me to wake ye for the forenoon watch though. That wasn't at dawn but early afternoon."

"Are ye indicating that I slept," Jack tried to add up the hours but Bill beat him to it.

"Twenty hours, aye."

"Why didn't ye wake me earlier?"

"'Cause I didn't wanna disobey to a captain's order." Bill teased his friend, before adding more seriously, "Jack, ye've been at the helm for almost a day, that means twenty-four hours of withstanding the probably worst storm I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot. None of us could've managed that; none of us could've mastered this storm the way ye did. Some o' the crew were scared shitless but they held on 'cause they believed in ye like ye believed in the Pearl. Ye knew she'd hold on and she did. So when ye asked me to wake ye for the forenoon watch I agreed, knowing ye could use a good kip. Actually, ye looked like ye'd drop dead with exhaustion any moment."

Jack fumbled with his twin beard, pondering… then he suddenly burst out with questions about the well-being of his ship since she hadn't been allowed to rest when he had been sent to bed.

Bill answered all of his questions with _aye, checked_. There was no leak in the hull, no rip in the sails, no damage done to her at all because of her captain's clever, well-advised skills in sailing.

"Well then," Jack sat down on his bed again and continued eating as if nothing could ever trouble him, "so we have to do something against her looking too pretty once we reach the Cabo Jorge. The Spaniards won't stop on their way to Lima just to help us if we don't look shipwrecked enough **and **fly a Spanish flag. We do have a Spanish flag somewhere, don't we? Ah, and by the way- when ye go looking for that flag, do me a favor and look for me hat as well. And for me pistol. I always loved that pistol."


	14. Starfish in a rum bottle

Chapter 14- Starfish in a rum bottle

One day the Black Pearl reached Cabo Jorge and dropped anchor there, lying in wait for the Spanish vessel, the Santa Esperanza. The idea was to appear shipwrecked so that the Spaniards would feel the urge to help their compatriots in need, therefore the Pearl was flying a Spanish flag. If the pirates were lucky they could then seize the ship without any useless bloodshed and take the crew hostage.

According to Treasure Joe's notes Jack knew when the Santa Esperanza was expected in Lima and knowing Spanish ships in general he was quite sure they would have to wait for at least a week until it appeared.

Alas, waiting wasn't good for the crew as the calm a few weeks ago had proven. The men were up for mischief like trying to give Rafael an earring for his first rounding of Cape Horn; it was a tradition among sailors. But unlike his brother who proudly wore an earring now, he didn't want one. Jack understood him quite well- after all, there was already a lot of metal glittering on him, no need for more- so he rebuked his crew and told them to leave Rafael alone. He still needed him safe and sound to impersonate a Spanish Lord by the name of Don Ignacio de Cataluña, but he didn't tell his crew that. The only one informed of his plan was Bill.

The pirates obeyed their captain, he had gained a lot of respect after mastering the horrible gale at Cape Horn; it almost verged on the miraculous that no one had died in that storm and the damage done to the ship was insignificant. Their admiration flattered him- he wouldn't be Captain Jack Sparrow if he wasn't moved by that- and indeed, you could see him prancing the deck like a proud peacock, boasting and probably being much too full of himself once again, but on the other hand he was also the concerned leader who cared for his crew. Therefore he thought of more useful ways to keep them busy instead of just playing practical jokes on poor Rafael, for instance, he sent out a few men to look for drinking water while others were detailed to go hunting.

Cabo Jorge was a rocky, deserted island with hardly any considerable flora; no tree grew on the rugged cliffs merely a few crooked bushes, weathered by the hostile environment. And yet this place wasn't completely uninhabited as a vast amount of various seabirds were nesting on the rocks, seals and turtles came here too. So there were meat and eggs in abundance to increase their supplies, and the pirates also found a small well.

On the fifth day the watch in the crow's nest shouted, "Sails ho!"

Jack took his telescope and scanned the horizon, a small Spanish galleon was approaching them from the south. "All hands on deck! Take yer positions, ye scabby dogs! Ready the cannons but don't run 'em out yet!"

When the galleon came closer, Jack saw that it was indeed the Santa Esperanza. He called for Rafael and instructed him what to tell the Spaniards, then he addressed his crew again. "Alright mates, action only at my command. And don't damage the ship."

A few pirates that could pass as Spanish sailors stayed on deck, pretending to be busy with repairing things, but the greater part of the crew was either 'tween decks, readying the cannons, or hiding somewhere.

Jack got a grip on Santos who was extremely excited about his first battle and dragged him at his side. "Stay behind me, boy. And whate'er will happen, please try not to do anything stupid, savvy?"

Santos nodded enthusiastically. "Aye, Capitano."

"Good boy." Jack wasn't really worried about the lad, after all, he himself had given him a few fencing lessons so that Santos would be able to defend himself when it was needed, and he'd learned quickly. There was no use in trying to keep him away from battle since that would be pointless- a fierce young man like Santos would always be keen to measure his strengths against others in a fight. Jack knew that from his own experience only that he had been much younger than the Spaniard when he had first participated in a raid.

The Santa Esperanza had dropped canvas after noticing an apparently shipwrecked vessel flying the Spanish flag so she came drifting closer until she was in talking distance. Santos translated the dialogue between Rafael and the Spanish captain for Jack, although Jack did understand most of it.

"Ahoy, Black Pearl. You seem to be in trouble. Is there anything we can do for our fellow countrymen?"

"Ahoy, Santa Esperanza. We got caught in a really nasty storm and our ship has been badly damaged. We hardly have any canvas left to continue our voyage…"

At that point Jack chuckled and praised himself for the very good idea to have some torn, white sails flapping uselessly in the wind while the black sails were neatly hauled up. The Spanish captain then offered to help them out with canvas if they could pay for it and Rafael's bargaining about the price was absolutely priceless in its absurdity. However, the Santa Esperanza was now close enough for a boarding party. He gave Gibbs a sign to run out the cannons.

The Spaniards got nervous- which was quite reasonable given that the familiar flag of their native country was suddenly replaced by the Jolly Roger to make it unmistakably clear they were **not** dealing with some shipwrecked fellow countrymen but with pirates.

Jack stepped out of his hiding place, wishing he had a hat to raise in a grand gesture of mocking welcome. Unfortunately he hadn't. Yet he was definitely sure he was impressing the Spanish captain nevertheless.

"Capitano Lupéron, I'm delighted to meet you. Now would you please be so kind to hand over the command of your ship to me since I'd be tremendously sorry having to kill such fine, able-bodied sailors like yer crew."

"You want my ship?" The Spaniard gasped involuntarily, not taking the outlandish looking pirate captain all too serious.

"Aye, I guess that's what I just mentioned but thanks for clarifying."

"Ha- we're on a Holy Mission therefore we will not surrender to any miserable pirate crossing our path. We will proudly fight the heathen mob of yours and with God's help we will win."

Jack rolled his eyes heavenwards. "Yer funeral."

It amused him to see Captain Lupéron's face turning very pale when the Spaniard had to see that– at his wink- more and more pirates appeared on deck until they clearly outnumbered the crew of the Santa Esperanza.

The following battle was short and of course victorious for the pirates; actually it had only been a matter of prestige to start it at all.

In the end Jack pranced the Esperanza's deck with the air of a man who was used to winning. Now he could concentrate on finding a certain letter which would grant him admission to one of the biggest known treasures, the treasure of the church of Lima, and said letter would be in the possession of a Spanish Lord by the name of Don Ignacio de Cataluña.

He was quite sure that Don Ignacio would not be so polite and cooperative as to just hand over the letter so he went rummaging for it in the cabins. Of course the Spanish Lord occupied the biggest cabin, the one with the golden-painted four-poster bed covered with blankets made of brocade and fur. There was also a golden chair with a damask upholstered seat, a golden desk- although Jack did have a liking for gold this was definitely a tad too much. Besides, he preferred to have his pockets full of gold instead of living in a ghastly dream of tinsel and frills that only spoke of an incredibly bad taste.

Shaking his head he flipped over a few papers on the desk when suddenly he felt like he was being watched. He turned around and saw a monk, a fat monk with a big wooden cross to be more precise. And it was not at all praying the monk had in mind.

Before Jack could react the monk hit at him with the cross. He yelped as he stumbled backwards, pursued by the vicious cleric who took another good swing and struck again.

The stroke hit Jack's head, rendered him unconscious and sent him crashing through the cabin window in a spray of broken glass, then he was falling. His motionless body broke through the waves and went down.

"Man over board!" Parrot screeched cheerfully.

The pirates gathered and stared into the sea. Santos appeared on deck of the Santa Esperanza, pushing forward a monk with his sword.

"The bastard has thrown our captain overboard!" He shouted with an edge of panic in his voice.

Immediately Bill jumped on the rail, steadying himself with a tight grip at the shrouds as he scanned the water surface, waiting for his friend to emerge. Yet he didn't.

Endless seconds passed.

Ever since Barbossa had lashed a cannon to his boots and sent him to rot forever in Davy Jones's locker Bill had avoided being in the water; he never went swimming because the fear that something might drag him down had settled in his mind like a constant paranoia. Nevertheless he didn't hesitate a second now, with Jack in danger, so he took off his coat and dove into the sea.

The waters were closing over his head and for a moment he was paralyzed with the horrors of his past, but soon he got a grip on himself. He had to find Jack!

Finally Bill spotted him, drifting lifelessly in the water. He doubled his efforts and swam faster, hoping he wasn't too late. The lack of light painted the underwater world in pale blue colors that made every man look like a drowned body; Jack's dreadlocks seemed to have developed some kind of independent life the way they floated around his head like tentacles of an octopus. It was a scary sight.

Bill got hold of his friend and wrapped one arm tightly around his chest, thus stopping him from sinking deeper. So far it had been easy. Now he had to get back to the surface but the weight of Jack's motionless body dragged him further down first. He panicked, frantically treading water and swallowing a good mouthful in his hysteric attempt not to drown. His arm felt heavy with weary pain, almost numb. He didn't let go of Jack though- he didn't allow himself to fail. It would be too bitter an irony if Captain Jack Sparrow died because of a monk and his own inability to keep his paranoia at bay.

In the end the more reasonable part of him gained the upper hand, and when panic didn't block his movements anymore he actually managed to emerge with Jack still tightly in his grip.

The pirates fished them out of the sea and helped Bill to get Jack back aboard the Pearl where he collapsed, coughing, next to his friend's unconscious form. There was no time to waste though. Still gasping to get his breath back he checked Jack's vital signs and noticed with concern how cold his skin felt; his face looked ashen and his lips were blue- after all, they were far in the south and in this part of the world it was winter; the water had been damned cold. His pulse was regular but very faint and he wasn't breathing.

"Oh no, don't dare to die now, I won't allow that." Bill covered Jack's lips with his own- which gained him some odd looks from the bystanders- and breathed into his silent lungs.

After a moment that seemed like an eternity, Jack finally started breathing on his own again so Bill rolled him to his side, patting his back. Jack's eyes fluttered open and he spat out water until he threw up bitter bile while at the same time coughing and gasping for air.

Then, suddenly, when his breathing had normalized a bit, he jumped to his feet as if nothing had happened and staggered off towards the quarterdeck, swaying more than usual. But he only managed to take a few steps before he blacked out again, tumbling to the planks with the grace of a mast that had been hit by a cannonball.

Bill was torn between the urge to burst out with hysteric laughter and the wish to beat this stupid fool black and blue. He did neither. Instead he got up from the floor where he had been sitting and walked over to Jack, mumbling, "Blast, I really hate him when he does that."

The crew, who had been watching this scene with astonishment, chuckled mildly.

"Scurry!" Bill barked all of a sudden as he recognized that Jack wasn't only half-frozen and half-drowned but also injured; he had a nasty looking wound at his head and his arm was bleeding from several cuts. "Someone help me to get Jack to his cabin. I need hot water and my medicine bag. And blankets! I need some warm blankets!"

The worrisome thought of pneumonia shot through his brain and made him shiver with cold fear. They had to get their wet clothes off.

"Will this do?" Silvers held up a fur blanket he had pinched from the Santa Esperanza before the drama about Jack had begun.

One of the hostages, a very elegantly dressed man, struggled against the pirates guarding him but with little success. Apparently he didn't like the idea of a soaked pirate captain being wrapped up in his precious blanket. "You will all be tortured, drawn and quartered. That blanket is made of the finest Siberian sable and lined with the purest Chinese silk."

"Ta," Silvers replied casually, "I guess that answers me question. Siberian sable and Chinese silk may be just good enough for Captain Sparrow. What d'ye say, Bootstrap?"

Bill wasn't in the mood for useless banter but he did cast a look at the Spaniard, trying to keep his face in mind. At least he knew now which of them was Don Ignacio de Cataluña.

"Lock 'em in the brig and then clear the deck. Get both ships ready to sail!"

Mr Gibbs raised a critical brow but he didn't speak up his mind until he had helped carrying his captain to his quarters.

"Don't get me wrong, Mr Turner, but I think ye're forgetting yer position. Ye're the ship's doc, not the first mate. I'm willing to follow any order ye give concerning our captain's well-being but…"

"Mr Gibbs," Bill cut him short in an almost gentle tone while undressing Jack who was as limp as a rag doll. "I am well aware that you truly are an able-bodied first mate, Captain Sparrow couldn't have chosen a better one. You are very good in delegating the captain's orders to the crew but however, you are not a man who is overly qualified in making decisions. So, since the captain is momentarily indisposed, wouldn't it be logical to simply follow the orders of the man who knows the captain better than anyone else, thus also knowing his concrete plans?"

"Um…" Gibbs scratched his head, feeling very uncomfortable. Turner had definitely made a point and it didn't seem right to him to stay and argue, least to stay and watch.

Bill had wrapped Jack in the fur blanket, tended to his head injury and picked splinters of glass out of his skin, so when he finally had a moment to relax and recollect the events of the day he felt a wave of sheer exhaustion wash over him; in was pleasantly warm in the cabin and Pearl's gentle rocking lulled him to sleep.

He awoke hours later because Jack was hallucinating about starfish in a rum bottle and wanton mermaids with seaweed hair chasing him along a beach; a smile curled up his lips, apparently he fancied the idea. Then the smile faded abruptly. He babbled about blue crabs and an ancient sea king with a grim, green face and tentacles as beard, sitting on a throne of shells and barnacles, crushing black pearls with his claw-like hands. At that point Jack was already in a state of feverish delirium, restlessly tossing and turning. Suddenly he sat up with a start, his face a mask of absolute horrors.

"Sh, sh, 'tis just a dream." Bill tried to hush him but Jack was not responsive. He just sat there with eyes wide open although he wasn't awake and the tears were streaming down his face. The elder man gathered his friend in his arms, whispering soothingly words as if speaking to a child while gently stroking along his spine. The infamous Captain Jack Sparrow would be embarrassed, but the delirious man was in another world where neither reality nor reputation mattered. Here he was as vulnerable as a young lad, rendered helpless by the demons of his feverish dreams. He clenched his hands in Bill's shirt and held on to him, burning so hot with fever that Bill was seriously worried.

_Jack has always been more important to you_, he heard his son nagging from a corner of his memory and he felt incredibly guilty because Will had been right; Jack **was** more important to him than anyone else. He couldn't change that fact.

His own hand felt cold against Jack's burning skin but he wouldn't allow himself to fret because of that. No use letting his thoughts run wild and expecting the worst. He was the ship's doc so he would act like one.

Meanwhile Jack had gone slack in his arms and his breathing became even, he was drifting off to sleep again. Bill helped him to lay down again before observing him attentively and checking his pulse. Then he got up to mix some herbs.

He didn't like leaving Jack alone if only for the time it would take him to boil some tea in the galley, but fortunately he bumped into Silvers who willingly offered to run errands for him.

"Guess ye wanna stay with the capt'n, aye? Reminds me of the time when we tried to commandeer that British merchant, the Pride, and ye got wounded so badly. "

Bill's thoughts stayed off, he merely remembered that day as a blurred vision. There had been soldiers aboard said merchant and they had offered persistent resistance… _Jack told me to stay aboard the Pearl and **not **to join in the fight, **not** to do anything stupid. Captain's order. But when he was attacked by three redcoats at the same time I couldn't resist the urge to help him, protect him. I was five years his senior, I couldn't have the lad fight three men and just watch. I should've remembered though that the 'lad' had much more experience in sword fighting than I and I was soon reminded of that. I clearly overestimated my talents- being stabbed is a painful way to learn…I blacked out, thought I'd die…but I woke up days later, in a bed, in Jack's cabin, and my young captain was staring at me, eyes dark with worry although he tried to cover that by casually saying, "Turner, if ye ever dare to do something that stupid again I swear I'll be the one killing ye, do I make meself unmistakably clear?"_

Silvers came back and put a kettle with tea on the table. He cast a glance to the bed where his captain was moaning in his sleep. "Will he be alright?"

"Aye. It's just a matter of restoring the balance between Yin and Yang." Bill poured a cup of tea and began stirring the hot liquid.

"Ah." Silvers frowned, not much wiser than before.

"D'ye mind telling me how I got from lying stabbed on the deck of the Pride back to the Pearl since I don't remember anything about it."

"No surprise, ye really were knocking at death's door. Actually none of us believed ye'd make it- except for Captain Sparrow. Anyway, when he found ye bleeding yer life away on the Pride he ordered immediate retreat and took ye back to the Pearl but when he noticed how bad ye were injured and knowing that we had no capable ship's doc aboard, he scurried over to the Pride in order to persuade their doctor to save yer life."

"How did he manage to persuade him?"

"At gunpoint." Silvers grinned, then he shook his head. "I have absolutely no idea how he had found out that the future personal physician of the governor of Nassau was aboard the Pride. However, Dr Abernathy didn't feel too obliged to assist in saving any pirate's life but the captain threatened to skin him alive and feed him piece by piece to the sharks if ye wouldn't make it; he actually tried his dagger on Abernathy's ear to make a point. I didn't know him very well then, had merely been aboard for two months or so, and I was scared of Captain Sparrow. I thought he was a complete and utterly madman when in fact he was just dying with worry over ye. Never left yer bedside till he knew for sure ye'd survive."

Bill swallowed hard, he had never heard that part of the story. He dismissed Silvers, not wanting to show that he was actually moved to tears. Then he sat down on the bed and touched Jack's cheek gently. "Just dropped by, eh? Ye bloody liar. Told me ye just dropped by when I woke up though ye've been sitting there with me all the time."

"Pirate." Jack whispered hoarsely; obviously he was awake and had been listening although he was much too groggy to even lift an eyelid. His throat felt like he had gargled with razor blades, his mouth was dry and his tongue so swollen that it had been a painful effort to utter this single word.

"Barely alive but yet you do have to have the last word, aye?" Bill muttered grumpily but the way he lifted up his friend's head to pour some tea down his throat showed great care and gentleness.

Jack drank greedily, or as greedy as Bill allowed him to, and the tea took away the burning pain. His lips twitched in a weary attempt to flash his friend a grateful smile but he was much too exhausted to finish it. He fell asleep long before his head rested on the pillows again.

For the next two days Jack stayed in a state of feverish half-consciousness, aware of what happened to him but hardly awake for more than a few minutes. It didn't matter though. He knew he was being cared for and that felt good. It was an experience he wasn't used to given that most of the times he had been seriously wounded he'd simply been patched up by any quack who'd been around only to be left alone then, leaving it up to his own strength, willpower or whatever whether he'd live or die. No mercy among pirates, anyone who fell behind was left behind...

…_the bullet had been dug out of his shoulder and he lay in his hammock, burning with fever. The air below was stuffy, smelled of too many men packed in one place. It was dark, no light fell in the crew quarters; he lost track of the time. Thirst, he was so thirsty but no one cared for a young lad. If he didn't make it another hammock would be free, it was as simple as that…_

He opened his eyes, disoriented first but then he realized where he was and relaxed again. No need to worry, Pearl would protect him. Tucked up in a soft fur blanket he watched sun patches dance across dark wood while Pearl sang him a lullaby of creaking planks, crackling canvas and the splashing of waves at her bow.

Jack was grateful for everything Bill did for him- as long as he felt miserable, weak and hurting. But when his constitution improved he became obnoxious and started complaining.

"Why don't ye gimme a glass o' rum instead?" With a disgusted expression he looked at the mug of tea Bill handed him.

"'Course ye're still dehydrated…"

"Isn't that mighty unlikely after I almost drowned?"

"Jack, you've been running a fever for three days, you lost a lot of fluids and therefore you will drink that damned tea, savvy?"

"How 'bout a sip o' rum for medical reasons then?"

Bill rolled his eyes. "It **is** for medical reasons that ye don't get any rum now. It's better for yer head, too."

"Don't remind me of me head." Jack thought the only reason why it hadn't exploded yet was because of the needles he'd allowed Bill to pin into his skin. No, that was a lie. In a moment of weakness he had actually begged him to make the throbbing pain go away and though he definitely must look absolutely ridiculous now, it had worked. He was feeling better. Alas, he was only feeling better when he was lying or sitting in bed, with some pillows piled up behind his back. Any attempt to get up only caused dizziness and nausea. Frustrated he lay back again before Bill could make him, but then again Bill was reacting damned fast.

"Stay. In. Bed. Otherwise I'll tie ye to it."

The pirate captain fluttered his lashes at him. "Never knew ye're into that, mate."

"Don't even try and think ye could manipulate me with that innocent look of yours 'cause it won't work with me. Ye're not that irresistible. Damned, Jack, you have a concussion, ye were almost drowned…"

"Aye, and I have needles in me head so don't worry, I won't run onto the deck like that. But please spare me the tea."

Bill drew a deep breath when suddenly he had a wonderful idea. "Alright. Ye'll get a sip o' rum if ye promise to do me a favor."

Rum! Rum sounded so damned good that Jack would have promised anything and besides he could never turn down a good friend who asked him for a favor, especially not if said friend was Bill. He owed him a lot for caring for him the way he had done. "Anything ye want, mate."

"Great." Bill got up to pour some rum into Jack's tea before handing him the mug. "Then do me the favor of staying in bed without further protest until I decide it's alright for you to get up."

Jack almost spluttered his drink; he sat up, coughing and gasping for breath. Then he shot his friend, who was solicitously patting his back, an accusing glance. "Ye cheated."

"Well, I had a good teacher."

"That's not funny." Jack sulked. He turned away from Bill and curled himself in the blanket, muttering, "can't see any reason why ye're so keen to keep me in bed. A pirate captain should be at the helm of his ship; it's no good when the captain doesn't know where his ship's sailing to or what our bearings are at the moment. Not good for the crew either not having seen their captain for days…"

"It's not good for the crew either to see their captain stumble to the deck and then collapse because he's clearly overtaxed his limits. Ye'd only make a fool of yerself. Why not take things easy, relax, and recover completely?"

"'Cause it's borin'."

Bill sighed, suppressing the urgent desire to throttle his stubborn friend. He really loved Jack like a brother but there were times when a younger brother could drive you up the wall. Once again he tried to argue with reason. "Jack, ye're still much too weak to do anything but stay in bed. Ye have a concussion, ye've been running a fever for three days because ye've been in icy cold water for quite a long time, ye almost drowned- damned, ye're not indestructible. Ye could have caught pneumonia and that is definitely not boring," he fell silent before continuing in a low tone, "Ye know, Claire died of pneumonia."

This time Jack didn't say anything stupid, in fact he didn't say anything at all. He knew what Bill was trying to tell him and took it to heart. Nevertheless it was hard to obey when there were so many things he should do instead of recovering. For example, he still hadn't found that letter which would grant him admission to the treasure of Lima, and he had promised his crew a treasure.

"I'm sorry, Bill. I don't wanna appear like an ungrateful sod when I'm actually well aware that ye saved me ass- now, wasn't it extremely clever of me to teach ye swimming?"

The elder man chuckled at the memory. "Aye, but only after ye almost drowned me in a fit of youthful foolishness. Damned, I never met any sailor who was so fond of being in the water."

"Well, my attitude towards that has changed a bit recently. It's…" Jack turned around to face Bill again, looking for the right words while his hands performed a strange little dance in the air as if that would help. "Ye know, it's just so goddamned frustrating to be literally tied up to the bed, bound to do nothing. I still don't have that bloody letter and every minute we're getting closer to Lima. I hate to see a perfect plan thwarted by a malicious monk who forgot his place. Monks are supposed to be modest and compassionate, savvy?"

Bill couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"That's not funny," the pirate captain rebuked his friend although there was a sparkle of mischievous amusement in his eyes and his lips twitched a bit. "By the way, d'ye happen to know what happened to that bastard?"

"Well, as far as I know yer crew left him behind at Cabo Jorge. Mayhap they thought a diet of raw eggs and water would teach him modesty and compassion." Bill recalled what he'd overheard on one of his many ways to the galley, boiling tea or cooking a nutritious broth for Jack, who seemed to shudder as he crawled deeper under the blanket. The thought of marooning would always send a shiver down his spine.

"He merely did what was right to him."

Their eyes locked, dark brown orbs meeting with those of a lighter, hazel shade, and they both agreed wordlessly to drop this topic; no more talk about the mutiny anymore.

"Aye, and so did yer crew. **This **crew loves their captain therefore they won't have a monk clubbing their captain with a cross through a window without punishing him. Don't brood over that, Jack, just take it the way it is." Bill paused to place a hand on Jack's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "Now tell me, d'ye want me to scurry over to the Santa Esperanza and bring ye that document ye're so keen on?"

Jack nodded. "No… um, I mean yes, good idea but send Rafael instead. After all, he's a Spaniard so he might be quite good in finding a letter written in Spanish."

"Ye don't want me to leave?"

"I most certainly don't want ye to leave. Ye made me stay in bed by cheating me into promising ye what I wouldn't have promised if I wasn't in a vulnerable and somewhat defenseless state therefore ye have to pay for using the soft spot I unfortunately have for ye against me. Savvy?"

It wasn't always easy to follow the logic of Captain Jack Sparrow but Bill was well trained in that, so he came up with the conclusion, "Ye want me to play some sort of a court jester for His Royal Madness?"

"Don't worry- you don't have to juggle."

"Ah, ye're such a merciful man, Captain Sparrow."

"Well, I am."

Shaking his head, Bill headed for the door in order to find Rafael and send him over to the Santa Esperanza. When he returned, Jack had fortunately fallen asleep.

"Ah, he's such a gorgeous guy, ain't he, Bill?"

Jack was in a splendid mood now that he finally held the much desired letter in his hands, and Rafael seemed to gleam with joy for having been able to satisfy his captain's wish. For the first time since starting out on this journey he felt useful, almost important.

"Aye." Bill looked over Jack's shoulder to take a glance at the letter. He didn't understand much Spanish but it was obvious now that Treasure Joe's information had been right, the Santa Esperanza was expected in Lima to stow the treasure of the church and take it to Seville.

Jack dismissed Rafael and waited until he had closed the cabin door behind him before turning to Bill, grinning conspiratorially. "Now get me a bottle of rum. We have to talk things over."

With stoic calm Bill handed him a mug of tea. "Ye have to keep a level head. So, let me hear what that devious mind of yours has thought up."

The plan was brilliant in its simplicity. They would sail into Callao, the port of Lima, aboard the Santa Esperanza with the uniforms of the galleon's crew put on the pirates thus passing themselves off as the expected Spaniards and receive their precious freight. Rafael would impersonate the Spanish Lord Don Ignacio de Cataluña and do most of the talking, although some pirates dressed up as monks were supposed to accompany him. Jack wanted to be one of those monks- he thought it to be incredibly funny to impersonate a monk after having been nearly killed by a monk- but Bill didn't like the idea at all and his friend refused to give way to reason.

Finally Bill held a mirror in front of Jack. "Is that the way a monk looks like?"

"Haven't met any monk that good-looking..." Jack agreed, admiring his reflection. Then he arched a quizzical brow at his friend. "Ah, now I know what ye're about- me beard needs a bit of trimming, right?"

"Actually more than just a bit, and with all the jingling and glittering bits in yer hair ye'd never pass as a monk. Remember what ye said about monks and modesty? Ye look like a peacock and a peacock is quite the antonym of modesty."

"But I do look good." Jack insisted stubbornly.

"Aye, irresistible in the same way that the idea of smacking yer head with that mirror is mighty irresistible to me. But since I'm the ship's doc I do resist; I don't want to burden meself with more work than necessary."

"I really appreciate yer kindness, mate. Now, speaking of kindness, would ye please be so kind and tell Mr Gibbs I'm expecting him tomorrow morning to hear my plan. The crew has to be informed- after all, they have to learn at least a few Spanish words before we're reaching Callao."

It was just a bunch of fellow pirates he was expecting the next morning yet Jack managed to make it appear as if he was granting them an audience. He had pillows piled up behind his back so that he could sit upright in bed and was just about to elegantly drape the fur blanket around his shoulder as if it was the stole of a king, when he noticed Bill watching him with bewilderment.

"Don't ye think that's a bit exaggerated?"

"Why, ye're the one who made me stay in bed and not meet me crew at the quarterdeck where the captain belongs so lemme just keep a bit of dignity."

"Sure, d'ye want me to fetch yer crown?" Bill realized that this time he'd gone too far, the dark glance Jack shot him made it evident. The pirate captain was extremely fed up with the whole situation, with his own weakness, and probably most of all with the fact that his shaky legs wouldn't carry him any further than to the table; he couldn't disobey the ship doc's order even if he'd try. So it was only natural that at least he wanted to appear as the strong leader he usually was and not as a sick, weak man. Actually his attempt to make his bed his throne and him a pirate king was also quite a clever way to make his crew believe in his plan; it wouldn't be of any help if he looked as miserable as he still felt.

Bill sighed, so this wasn't the right time for jesting. He sat down next to Jack. "I'm sorry, that was a stupid idea with the crown?"

"Ah, 't wasn't that stupid- King Jack does have a nice ring to it. But I'll be modest and remain Jack to ye." Jack chuckled before giving Bill a more serious glance. "Joking apart, this is important to me. I want that treasure and I want my plan to succeed but I can't do it all on me onesies; I need my crew. So do I look like an infamous pirate captain who will convince them of my plan?"

"Jack," Bill placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him slightly, "it's not yer looks that matters but yer words. Ye've a knack with words such that ye could sell icebergs to penguins and make them believe they made a good deal, so don't worry about yer crew. First they'll look at ye in astonishment, wondering if ye'd gone completely mad now, but the more ye tell them the more they'll recognize the brilliance of yer plan."

You had to give Jack credit that he did not take Bill's words for granted nor did he act like a proud peacock now, spurred on by flattery to start boasting or being much too full of himself. Instead he just flashed him an honest smile before unceremoniously proceeding to the agenda.

"Ta. Alright then, go 'n tell 'em the captain's waitin'."

Bill seemed to have had some sort of foresight because things transpired exactly the way he had guessed. The pirates listened to Jack's presumptuous aim to steal the treasure of the church of Lima and really thought he'd gone mad- Marty even uttered disrespectfully that the blow at the head hadn't been any good for the captain's sanity- but when Jack revealed more of his plan they all fell silent, reconsidering it more carefully now and thus coming to the reverent conclusion that it might actually work the way he had planned it.

Jack pretended not to have noticed the moment of uncertainty but carried on by addressing Rafael. "Ye guy, ye'll be Don Ignacio de Cataluña from this day on."

The Spaniard gave him a wide-eyed gaze. "You want me to pretend I'm Don Ignacio?"

"I want ye to impersonate him. Sleep in his cabin, wear his clothes, read his books- all of his stuff is yours now except for this blanket which is mine- get accustomed to his ways. Visit him in the brig and talk to him, talk like him."

Although Rafael was definitely flattered that his captain entrusted him with such an important task he was nevertheless insecure whether he could handle that. "Do you really think I could be good…"

"Ah, stop whining; behave snobbish- ye're a Spanish Lord now. Hold yer head up high. It doesn't matter if we don't like ye anymore because we will like ye again when we have the treasure. Now, Garcia whelp, while yer brother's busy with becoming an unpopular high and mighty, I want ye to teach the crew some Spanish phrases. Is there anyone around who already knows a bit more than ordering a round of rum in a Spanish cantina?" Jack scanned the men who raised their hands, then he frowned as his eyes fell on the man with the macaw on his shoulder. "Eh, thank ye Mr Cotton, I'm sure ye'll be mightily helpful."

"Hasta la vista, querida." Parrot chirped.

12


	15. Not all treasure is silver and gold

chapter 15- Not all treasure is silver and gold

Port Royal 

There was no doubt, Rose Hawkins was pregnant. She had half expected that after her encounter with Captain Sparrow and though she should be ashamed about having lost her virginity to such a scoundrel, she didn't regret it. Well, it had been unpleasant but it had gotten her what she wanted. She was carrying his child so he would have to marry her now. Unfortunately Captain Sparrow had not returned to Port Royal for almost four month.

Of course the Turners noticed the change their maid went through, the attacks of nausea early in the morning. Elisabeth was no fool, she immediately knew what was wrong with the girl. Nevertheless she didn't push Rosie into talking since she trusted the girl to come and talk to her when she thought the time was right.

Rose Hawkins however had no intentions talking to Elisabeth in the first place because she knew quite well that Elisabeth wouldn't be pleased to find out what had happened and there was no use in telling lies to her. She was a smart woman, intelligent, with a strong sense of knowing what's right or wrong, and trying to lure a man into marriage by giving herself to him just to achieve her goal was something Milady would definitely consider wrong. Rosie herself knew that it was wrong, actually it was indecent, a sin. Good girls didn't do things like that. But then again good girls didn't get what they wanted.

So, instead of setting herself up to get rebuked by Elisabeth, Rosie considered it wiser to pour out her poor little heart to Mr Turner. After all, Will was such a good man who would surely be moved if she told him the truth wrapped up in a tiny lie; no doubt that he would swallow that lie. After all, he was still at bad terms with Captain Sparrow since his father had left Port Royal aboard the Black Pearl.

It only needed a few tears streaming down her cheeks, a helpless flutter of lashes, and Rose had wrapped Master Turner around her little finger.

"Oh my God," he breathed, running strong, calloused hands through his shoulder-length, light-brown hair as he looked at the miserable young woman sitting in front of him, "poor Rosie. I can't believe he was so bold and disregarded our hospitality in such a cruel way by raping a member of our household."

Rosie shed more tears. With a trembling voice she asked, "You don't believe me?"

There was no reason for Will not to believe her. She was a fine, young woman from a decent family while Jack was a cheat, a liar, a pirate. So he took Rosie in his arms, soothingly stroking her back while assuring her that of course he believed her. A lass like Rose Hawkins would not lie to him. He promised her to find a solution for her problem.

"Will you make him marry me?"

At that point Will was a bit puzzled. "You want to marry a rapist, a pirate?"

If possible, Rosie cried even more. "A pirate? I thought he was a respectable captain with honest intentions when he started wooing me… I would have never allowed him to if I had known he was a," sniffing she spat out the word 'pirate' before shooting an accusing glance at Will. "I thought I was living with a decent family but now I have to learn you were housing a pirate."

Will felt really bad and he blamed himself for being so naïve to have trusted a pirate; after all, a leopard won't change his spots. Again he assured Rosie that he would take care of things, then he left her to go looking for his friend, Commodore Richard Morrison.

It was a few hours later when he finally got a chance to fill in his beautiful wife of what had happened to poor Rosie. However, her reaction was not what he had expected. She arched a delicate brow at him.

"Will, darling, you can't possibly believe Jack would be able to do that. He might be a pirate but he is **not** a rapist. At least he didn't take advantage of the situation when we were marooned on that island."

"Good Lord, I would kill him if he ever dared to lay his dirty hands on your fair skin. However, I don't think Rosie lied to me."

"I beg you to consider that she might have twisted the truth a bit, you know of the adoring looks she always gave him when he came to visit. Probably he seduced her and now she's too ashamed to admit, which is understandable."

"I wish you were right. You're such a wonderful smart woman, Elisabeth. Alas, even if you're right it doesn't change the regrettable fact that Rosie is not married but with child. Jack has to pay for it. And don't forget what he was accused of the last time he was here. Of course my father took his side in claiming there was no truth in Captain Griffith' words but then he left with Jack and that is not a proper way to prove one's innocence." He sighed wearily, "I guess father would do everything for Jack, even lie for him. When he set his priorities there was no place for me; he never truly cared about us."

Elisabeth wrapped her slender arms around her husband's waist and breathed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Oh Will, I just hate to see you so full of sorrow. I know your father's thoughtless and ruthless behaviour was such a disappointment for you, my poor darling, but please forget about him now. Remember, you still have us, Lydia, little Willie and me."

It seemed all the trouble of this world was lifted off his shoulder if only his beloved wife held him close.

"Elisabeth, darling, it almost breaks my heart but I have to leave you for a couple of days. I already spoke to Richard, he is willing to assist me in my search for Jack. I want to give him the chance to do the right thing."

Tears welled in Elisabeth's eyes when she saw her husband leave Port Royal aboard the Dauntless the next morning, her lips still burning with the memory of his last sweet kiss. The ship was heading to a small peninsula on the northeast coast of Hispaniola where Will knew his father had been living in the past as he had told him. Probably that was also Jack Sparrow's hiding place. However, that was most definitely the best place to start looking for the infamous pirate.

Samaná, some days later 

Vittorio Garcia looked at the angry young man in front of him and wished he hadn't granted him admission to his house. Actually he had only done so because his daughter Anamaria knew that man since he himself held no love for Englishmen in uniforms disturbing the peace of Samaná.

"What did you say your name was, son?"

"My name is William Turner."

"Ah, such as in Senor Bootstrap Turner?"

"He's my father." Will spat, wishing it wasn't so. How could his father have ever seriously considered asking his mother to come over from England and live with him here; this place was a smuggler's haven if ever he had seen any. A beautiful landscape but definitely not the right place for a decent English woman.

Meanwhile Vittorio eyed the young Turner up and down, noticing that, although there was a certain physical resemblance, father and son weren't much alike at all. Unfortunate, because he really liked Bill Turner. His son however was much too rash, much too presumptuous, much too prejudiced. He had come here with a bag of unfounded accusations such as that Captain Sparrow had apparently raped a girl in Port Royal and he had even pushed said girl forward, pointing at her belly. Well, the lass was pretty and she knew it, she knew of her effect on men.

Anamaria laughed out loud. "Jack? A rapist? Damned, whelp, 'ave ye ever cared to look at Jack? He might be a bloody scoundrel and a liar but I swear that given his devilish good looks all the women I know are quite eager to spread their legs for him; he definitely doesn't 'ave to force any, savvy?" Then she walked up to Rose Hawkins and lifted her chip with two fingers. "Well, sister, how 'bout ye? Couldn't resist the handsome pirate and now ye're blaming him for yer lost innocence? I bet he made it worthwhile; I know he's anything but a lousy lover."

The girl blushed, shot her a defiant glance and spat at her. At that point Vittorio's tolerance with his visitors started to wear off though he still managed to keep countenance.

"So, _Senor_ Turner, what precisely do you expect me to do now, concerning this specific situation? I told you before but in case you have already forgotten I might as well tell you again that I have no idea of Captain Sparrow's whereabouts." Of course that was a lie or at least not the whole truth since he did know where the pirate was sailing to; he simply didn't want to share his knowledge. Jack Sparrow definitely was a bloody weasel but he wouldn't give him away to people he had taken an immediate dislike to, even if they tried to persuade him at gunpoint.

"You lying Spanish bastard!" Commodore Morrison snarled repulsively as he sprang in line for his dear friend Will. He cocked his pistol and pointed it at the patriarch of the Garcia clan. "I will order the Dauntless to raze that little smuggler's haven of yours to the ground with her cannons if you continue to refuse cooperation."

"Your funeral, senor." Vittorio's voice was dangerously calm now. "Harm a hair of my head and you risk war with Spain. Surprised? Well then, I recommend you to make better enquiries about whom you've chosen to pick a quarrel with since my family is still highly regarded at the Spanish court."

Immediately Morrison lowered his weapon and exchanged glances with Will, who just shrugged, not knowing what to do. Finally they agreed to leave Rose Hawkins in Samaná where the numerous women of the Garcia clan would take care of her, thus sparing her the embarrassment of returning to Port Royal still being pregnant and unmarried. It was also an elegant way to avoid a scandal.

Rosie thought that was a good agreement. After all, here she was at the place where her idolized captain was most likely to return; here she would wait for him. It never occurred to her though that he might possibly not be all too pleased with the idea of having a sweet little baby child with her.

Will Turner returned to Port Royal but even before they docked he knew that something was amiss. His beautiful wife was not waiting for him alongside the quay like he had hoped she would and he immediately worried something terrible might have happened. He almost ran all the way to the governor's mansion, seriously concerned to see so many Navy soldiers swarming the house. A shiver ran down his spine and he was panic-stricken beyond reason as he shouted out loud Elisabeth's name.

The relief to see her slender figure standing in the entrance hall was indescribable but noticing she was crying made his heart ache; no tears should ever be filling her soft eyes, disfiguring the beauty of her charming face. Then Elisabeth spotted him and breathed his name like a prayer as she hurled herself in his strong arms.

"Oh Will, I'm so glad you're back. Something horrible has happened."

"Dear God, please not the children."

"No," Elisabeth sobbed heart-breaking helplessly, "it's my father… he's dead… ruthlessly murdered in his sleep…"

-

Aboard the Black Pearl, miles away 

The sky was of a heavy grey and the clouds hung so low they appeared like patches of fog hovering over the waves. It had been raining for days. Sometimes it was merely a light drizzle, sometimes it was a torrential shower, but most of the time it was just raining constantly.

Usually, Captain Jack Sparrow enjoyed his turn at the helm but today it held no pleasure for him, he was sick and tired of the endlessly pouring rain. Someone had loaned him an old hat to keep the water from dripping into his eyes but that didn't improve the situation either. He caressed the dark wood of the wheel, whispering a silent excuse to his lady for wishing to be somewhere else, at a warm and most of all dry place. The idea of cuddling up in his bed with something warm- preferably a warm and soft female body- became more and more tempting; alas, there weren't any females around. It were moments like this when he incredibly missed Rowan.

_Eighteen months, three weeks and one day_- he'd never stopped counting the days, still longing for her. There had been times he'd thought he would definitely and truly go mad with missing her, or drown in all the rum he'd been drinking to get over the pain of being abandoned, but things had improved since then. Bill was back. And though it still hurts he didn't feel like dangling over the edge of insanity anymore, his inner balance had been stabilized again, thanks to Bill. There were no words to describe what it meant to him that his friend was back aboard the Pearl. Thinking about that he came to the idea to do something unexpected for a change and actually do follow the advice Bill had given him.

_Please try not to exaggerate things, take it easy. Remember that ye've been seriously ill_. Well, he surely wouldn't forget that, after all Bill had managed to keep him in bed for almost a week and he'd probably been damned right to do so given that he still felt slightly weak sometimes. The weather was definitely not doing him any good. So he gave over the helm and staggered to the galley to get something hot to drink. Strangely he had gotten accustomed to enjoying a good cup of tea- especially if a splash of rum was added.

He returned to his cabin and sat down at the table to study his charts. At least the wind was steady so they'd be reaching Callao in about three days. He'd soon have to leave for the Santa Esperanza while Gibbs would take the Pearl to a secure hiding place at an offshore island, but they'd reunite again after the treasure was his.

A muffled voice from the bed made him look up. "Is it still raining? Bloody awful weather."

"Aye, but I swear we'll forget all the unpleasant occurrences as soon as we're sailing the Asian Seas again. Want some tea?"

Bill sat up and rubbed his temples, still heavy with sleep. It had become a habit that he slept in the captain's cabin now, nevertheless they had hardly seen each other the past days. The pirates had have to man two ships so every hand was needed on deck; there hadn't been much time for private conversations after Jack had recovered.

It surprised him when Jack actually handed him a mug of tea. "Ye're alright, mate?"

"Just soaked to the skin…" He looked around the cabin; although he had hung up his clothes to dry it seemed they never got dry but remained damp. With a shrug he changed the topic. "However, I'm heading over to the Esperanza tomorrow. I already instructed Gibbs what to do while I'm not aboard."

"So ye do insist on playing monk?" Bill still wasn't happy with that idea but he knew as well that he couldn't talk his friend out of it. Of course Captain Jack Sparrow wanted to be as close to the course of events as possible, he wanted to be in control of the situation. Trivial details like braids in his beard or dreadlocks and beads in his hair would not keep him away from an exciting adventure. Somehow Bill could understand him; Jack had thought up a brilliant plan so he wouldn't want to sit back watching others carrying it out and probably mess it up. "Well then let me be at least one of yer fellow monks."

Jack smirked, golden teeth glittering in the candle light. "Ye're very much welcome, Brother William."

When Captain Sparrow boarded the Santa Esperanza he acted so cocksure as if the whole world was his and if not the whole world then most definitely this galleon. He had underestimated Rafael Garcia and his approach to becoming Don Ignacio de Cataluña. The Spaniard proved his skills in acting by rebuking Jack in the most perfectly arrogant nobleman way, thus showing him his position aboard which was without doubt not what Jack had expected. Usually he was the one giving orders but he was not in command of this ship. He had decided to play a monk and not the captain of the Esperanza; Santos had taken over that part.

The younger Garcia looked much older and definitely like a respectable man with Captain Lupéron's clothes and wig, and he seemed to enjoy being in the position to shove Jack around.

"Can I make him scrub the deck?" he asked his brother.

Jack blanched, eyes wide with horror. They wouldn't go that far, would they? Bill could hardly contain himself from bursting out with laughter; the expression on his friend's face was priceless.

"Alas, this man is part of my entourage and not part of your crew, so I'm afraid I must decline your request, Capitano. Although, going down on his bended knees is definitely appropriable for a monk as it teaches him modesty." Rafael replied so stuck-up as if the Spanish nobleman had always been in his blood.

They played their roles well, both of them, Jack had to admit. He wasn't that pleased with his own role though when one of the crewmembers showed him where he was supposed to sleep.

He had seen the cabin of Don Ignacio which was spacious and pompously furnished, so the captain's cabin would probably be of equal standards. However, it was occupied by Captain Lupéron alias Santos Garcia. There was also a dining room for the most important people aboard, decorated with lots of useless bits and pieces whereas the crew's quarter was a disproportionately small, cramped room. Too small for too many sailors.

It didn't surprise him that some of the Spaniards had been quite keen to join the pirates, especially after he'd heard stories about life aboard the Esperanza. Apparently Captain Lupéron had behaved like a despot and punished even the slightest clumsiness in a cruel way- there had been five Spaniards in the galleon's brig who could verify that since they had experienced that themselves. They were part of the crew now but Jack didn't know whether to trust them. But when he'd mentioned that, Bill had just pointed out quite correctly that he didn't trust anyone anyway.

Jack didn't think it was beneath him to sleep in a hammock if only he could get some sleep. He lay on his back and gazed into space, the air was stuffy, some pirates were snoring. He turned to his right side and wanted to pull the blanket over his head but nearly fell out of his hammock while doing so. With a yelp he managed to regain balance and reminded himself that rushed movements were no good.

"Shut up," one pirate grunted, others stirred in their sleep. However, the snoring had ceased which was a positive side effect of nearly falling out of the hammock. Jack tried to rearrange his limbs and was just about to doze off when he heard the creaking of the wood. It was a different creaking than the Pearl made, one that sounded dissonant and disturbing. He opened his eyes. The air was still stuffy and the room much too cramped; he could hardly breathe. Perhaps he should try to find himself some rum.

"Bill?" Jack shook his friend's shoulder. "Bill, are you awake?"

"Mhmpf, now I am," came a not too friendly reply, and the noises a few fellow pirates made indicated that they weren't all too pleased about the disturbance either. Jack thought it might be better not to ask if any of them had a sip of rum for him so he went rummaging through the galleon's hold. All he found was Spanish Brandy but that would probably do as soporific.

It was in the early hours of the morning when Jack had finally fallen asleep only to be disturbed again. He sensed the presence of someone approaching him, a hand reached out for him… Jack got hold of an arm while sitting up with a start and of course he had forgotten that a hammock didn't like rushed movements. The bloody thing rocked like a boat in a hurricane and threw him overboard along with his attacker; they landed on the floor with a heavy bang. "Madre de Dios," gasped the attacker who was actually Santos, and he didn't look very happy lying flat on his back with a dagger pointed at his throat, "what's gotten into you, Capitano Sparrow?"

"Never wake a sleeping sparrow." Bill chuckled from his hammock as he sat up more graciously than Jack before. Meanwhile the pirate captain had removed his dagger from Santos' throat.

"What d'ye want?"

Insecure, Santos looked from Bill to Jack and back.

"Don't worry, lad. He's not as mad as it seems, just a tad out of control from time to time."

"Actually, I came here to ask for Captain Sparrow's advice how to plot a course into port once we reach Callao but I can come back later if it's not the right time now."

"Ah, so ye talked too big when ye decided to play captain, is it so?" Jack mocked him only to cover up that he had just reacted like a total fool. Placatory he helped Santos to his feet and agreed to give him a lesson in navigation.

Bill was startled when someone woke him the next morning and the first thing he saw when opening his eyes was the pale face of a monk gazing down at him. It took him a few moments to recognize the man dressed up as a monk- it were his mischievously sparkling eyes that finally gave him away.

"Bloody hell! Jack?"

"Brother William, would you please to so kind to follow me to the ship's chapel. We need to… um, pray."

The monk slipped away, leaving Bill wondering if he had been dreaming but then again that dream had been so realistic it spurred on his curiosity. The ship's chapel? He hadn't even know there was one and yet it didn't surprise him.

There was indeed a chapel aboard the Santa Esperanza, and- needless to mention- it was a great deal more spacious than the crew's quarters. So much about Spaniards, so much about religion. Bill definitely felt uncomfortable. It was a place to make a man appear unimportant in the face of strict God and he longed for the peaceful, serene atmosphere of Asian temples with the fragrant smell of incense sticks filling the air.

A hooded figure wearing a friar's habit sat down next to him and crossed his legs.

"Juss one last word before the adventure starts."

"If ye wanna remind me not to do anything stupid…"

"…it's to no avail. Ta, I already know that. Seems to be in yer blood." Despite his casual words Jack's eyes were serious as he looked at his friend who was still taken by surprise about the perfect masquerade. The familiar red bandana was gone, his hair, plaits, dreadlocks and beads tied back in the nape of his neck and securely hidden under the hood. His twin beard wasn't plaited anymore; it looked longer now and the grayish touch in it must be powder. One could have really mistaken him for a monk. "Anyway, mate, if the worst should happen…"

"I won't keep to the Code." Bill cut him short.

"Aye, that's also known. Ye will always find a way to do something heroic and yet incredibly stupid and I can't even blame ye for that. All I'm asking ye is to take care of yerself and I want ye to know about the signals I arranged with Gibbs."

"I don't like this talk, Jack. Ye're plan's brilliant and besides ye're Captain Jack Sparrow- so what should go wrong?"

"Dunno. 'Tis just… ye'd been reminding me constantly of being neither immortal nor indestructible while I was being sick…" Jack fell silent, completely lost in thoughts for a moment. The he shrugged and flashed Bill a cheeky golden smile. "Ah, forget about that. Ye're right, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow so of course me plan will succeed but lemme tell ye 'bout these signals anyway."

Callao was the main port of the Spanish Viceroyalty of Peru, situated on a peninsula approximated ten miles east of Lima. Since it was the center of Spanish commerce in the Pacific, the little town was well fortified, surrounded by a solid city wall with watchtowers overlooking the sea. It looked nigh impregnable but Callao had been attacked by pirates in the past.

Captain Jack Sparrow did not intend to attack the city, he had found a more elegant and more promising way to sneak himself in- although a monk's garb was definitely not what he'd call elegant. If their little masquerade didn't bust up they'd be able to sail away from here without a fight but the hold stuffed with treasures. That's what distinguished him from other pirates- he enjoyed a clever plan more than the usual hack and slash to get what he wanted, and his plan seemed to work out well.

After they had docked- Santos had done a good job in giving the right orders while one of the new crewmembers, a Spanish sailor turned pirate called Alvarez, had steered the Esperanza into port- they were greeted by a very important looking Spaniard.

Rafael handled the situation perfectly; he had really gone up in his role as Don Ignacio de Cataluña so no one became suspicious of them not being what they pretended to be. Jack was relieved. The first step towards the treasure of Lima was taken.

The very important looking Spaniard, apparently a hot shot at the court of the viceroyalty, gave orders to start loading their precious freight which was already stored in a warehouse nearby, but then asked Don Ignacio to meet the bishop of Lima first before he'd let him sail away again. Though he had studied the letter that almost granted the pirates the legal permission to steal the treasure, it was a matter of obligation to go and see the bishop. Jack had already half expected that since he knew of the way these most catholic Spaniards ticked.

However, he hadn't expected their trip to Lima to be so damned nerve-racking long. The ten miles separating the towns of Callao and Lima seemed to be endless since their way led through a monotonous wasteland of desert and stone, and the heat in the carriage became almost unbearable. Yet the most annoying thing was that he didn't understand what Rafael and the Spanish high shot were talking about. He picked up a word or two but never enough to be able and follow a conversation held in the most pompous Spanish he'd ever heard, and he was definitely caught off guard when Don Eduardo actually addressed him. Jack broke out in a cold sweat, not knowing what to answer to a question he even hadn't got yet although he usually wasn't at a loss of words. Fortunately Rafael had learned to lie and lying he did as he saved the situation by pointing out that the monks had taken a vow of silence- _silencio,_ at least that was something Jack understood so he nodded obsequiously.

The cathedral of Lima was big but that didn't mean it was necessarily spectacular. In fact, Jack had seen much prettier churches that were more worthy of being plundered but then again the ecclesiastical riches were already in his possession, he just had to get them out of here.

Don Eduardo showed them the grave of Francisco Pizarro in the first chapel on the right hand side and they all bent their heads in a silent prayer for the famous Spanish conquistador when the bishop arrived. He was a tall, gaunt man who radiated ecclesiastical arrogance and he was so utterly stiff that Commodore Norrington at his best appeared like a humorous guy. Jack took an instant dislike to the bishop and it truly repelled him having to bow and kiss his hand. Pretty ring though, he liked rubies. Bill couldn't hide his dislike quite as well, his eyes gave him away but only Jack noticed.

Don Eduardo, Don Ignacio and the bishop left the two monks to themselves and humble prayers while they went signing more papers to complete the transaction concerning treasure. Jack saw them leave to the main chapel and emptied the poor box, watched by a grimly smiling Bill who really hated being in this cathedral.

Finally Don Ignacio reappeared with a letter that granted him the bishop's permission to leave port with the treasure of Lima stowed in the hold of the Santa Esperanza, and another letter for the bishop of Seville who would never get it.

They returned to Callao in the very same carriage, this time not accompanied by Don Eduardo but escorted by mounted soldiers in dress uniform. Although that was meant to be a matter of expressing respect, Jack would never cease to feel mightily uncomfortable in the presence of soldiers. The three pirates remained very silent on their whole way back to the port.

There would always be kids hanging around at the docks of any harbour in the world, street urchins, harbour-rats, hoping to earn a few coins or begging. Jack thought he could afford to play a compassionate monk and gave away some of the coins he had stolen from the poor box, when Bill grabbed his arm to stop him; the soldiers were eying them suspiciously. Jack shot him a warning glance, casting his look at Bill's tattooed skin. Did the soldiers take notice of the naked mermaid too? He breathed a sigh of relief when he was finally aboard the Esperanza and _Captain_ Santos gave orders to weigh anchor. Then he turned around to give Bill a good verbal bashing for being so stupid not to cover his bloody tattoos only to notice only that Bill wasn't there. Instantly he scurried over to Santos.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it. We can't leave yet. Bill isn't aboard."

"We'd arouse suspicion if we're lingering instead of leaving." Santos claimed, and that was true. Jack didn't like it though. He didn't like it either when he reminded him of the Code. "Anyone who falls behind is left behind, Bill's pirate enough to know."

"The code is **not **meant for Bill," he hissed as he grabbed Santos by the collar to give him a good shaking. He knew he was overreacting and probably making a fool of himself once more but he absolutely panicked at the idea of losing Bill. He would **not** leave him behind. In less than a minute he changed his plan.

"Alright." Jack took off the friar's habit and shoved it into Santos' arms. "Listen closely, lad. Ye take the Esperanza to Isla del Coco while I hurry back to town, find Bill and return with him to the Pearl. We'll be meeting at Isla del Coco then."

"Agreed." Santos gave him a shrewd glance. "But you are aware that I could as well disappear with the treasure."

Jack rolled his eyes heavenwards. "There's more treasure than silver and gold- when will people start getting that?"

With that he snuck off the Esperanza and into the crowded streets of Callao.

-

The soldier had noticed the tattoo and he was wondering why a man of God would have a naked mermaid inked into his skin unless he wasn't what he pretended to be. He turned and walked away to share this observation with his fellow soldiers.

Bill cursed silently as he watched them. He had to do something, distract them so that they could not raise the alarm and thus endanger Jack and the crew because of his carelessness. He walked away from the docks into a small alley, knowing they would follow him.

There were four of them and they looked kind of surprised when they saw him standing in the middle of that alley, ready to pick a fight.

"Ye're looking for me, caballeros?"

They obviously thought he was mad given that it was a four against one situation and he wasn't even armed. Bill, however, didn't need any weapons. He didn't want to kill them but merely knock them out so they couldn't thwart Jack's plan. And most certainly they had never seen a Kung-Fu fighting pirate dressed up as monk. His attack took them by surprise. He slammed the side of his hand against the neck of the first soldier, whirled around on one leg to kick the other one into the stomach of soldier number two and retreated before the other two got aware of what was happening. Bill was only warming up. He made a side step, slowly circling around the third guy who had just unsheathed his sword. The soldier was well trained and knew the rules of engagement but that didn't help him much; he should have learned to keep his sword in his hands. With a metallic clatter it landed on the cobblestones. Bill somersaulted backwards, landed securely on his feet, and immediately launched another attack at the two remaining soldiers. He jumped up, spreading his legs. Unfortunately he hit only one head with his boots, the fourth soldier ducked just in time. Nevertheless he was caught off guard when Bill landed and knocked him out with two rapid karate chops. Still on alert he heard approaching footsteps on cobblestones so he whirled around, expecting another attacker. His feet almost connected with Jack's jaw but the pirate captain instinctively jerked back.

"Now, that's not a nice way to greet a friend," he muttered whilst watching Bill perform an elegant pirouette before facing him breathlessly.

"What're ye doin' 'ere?"

"Same I could ask ye since ye were actually supposed to be aboard the Esperanza with me right now instead of beating some Spanish soldiers black and blue."

"Well, one of them noticed me tattoo so I wanted to make sure he'd shut up but that still doesn't explain what ye're doing here. What 'bout the Code?"

Jack tsked as he made a disdainful sweep of hand proving just how superfluous he considered the Code. "Guidelines, very vague guidelines. Actually the only thing that matters is…" He broke off when one of the soldiers Bill had knocked out apparently wasn't so knocked out because he stumbled to his feet and ran away, screaming, "Pirates! Pirates! We're attacked by pirates! Shut the gates!"

"…that we find a way to get out of here." Jack finished his sentence with a wry smile in Bill's direction. Then he staggered to the end of the alley and lurked around the corner only to see that the Spaniards were serious about closing the gates; their way to the docks was blocked, the streets were teeming with more and more soldiers while the common folks reacted panic-stricken. Nevertheless he managed to see an advantage in that. "Oh well, nothing's better for helping two pirates to disappear than totally disorganized chaos. Come on now, Bill, I wanna get back to the Pearl."

Bill was more than just a bit flabbergasted, in fact, he still hadn't completely gotten what was going on although he was everything but slow. Back to the Pearl? Suddenly it dawned upon him what Jack was about; it only didn't make any sense.

His thoughts were interrupted when Jack grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the other side of the alley, merely to find out that the scenery didn't look much different from there. There were still far too many soldiers for them to make an easy escape and by now the gates out of the city must have been definite shut and well guarded. They were trapped in Callao. It was merely a matter of time before they got caught. Some soldiers had already spotted them.

Jack opened the first door that wasn't locked. It led into a shady backyard with some plants and a fountain, and from that backyard another door led into a crowded cantina.

"How 'bout having a drink here while we wail till the pandemonium we've caused has settled a bit?" Jack quipped as he actually made his way to the bar. He definitely would have ordered a round but that moment the main door flew open and a bunch of Spanish soldiers came busting in.

"There they are! Stop the pirates!"

The pirates looked for a way to escape and it was Bill who noticed the staircase leading to an upper floor of the building. They ran up the stairs and crashed open the next door only to disturb a copulating couple.

"Carry on, carry on! We're not here. We're already gone. Ye haven't seen us." Jack encouraged them as he followed Bill to a balcony from where they climbed up to the roof. In the room below them, the client collapsed unsatisfied on the body of the whore, damning whoever it was that had messed up his fun. Then a group of soldiers entered, leaving him really frustrated.

Meanwhile Jack and Bill had jumped from one roof to another, glad that the houses had been built so closely here. Alas, not all of them had a solid roof as they had to find out while crushing though rotten wood and landing in a pigsty.

Heavy footsteps were approaching. The pirates had just managed to hide in the shadows when the door was opened but the soldier looking into the stable was run over by a hysteric squeaking sow and didn't return. They waited a few more minutes before they were sure no one had discovered them, actually it was getting very quiet outside. Bill used the moment to ask a question.

"Jack, where's our ship?"

"Well, the Pearl's anchored at the offshore island where I told Gibbs to drop anchor 'n wait 'til I give him a signal- I told ye 'bout that signal, didn't I?" Jack crept to the door and cast a glance outside. They were in a dead end alley close to the city wall. "Anyway, I suggest we commandeer a boat, scurry over to that island"

"Damned, I didn't mean the Pearl and ye know it." Bill clutched Jack's arm tightly and forced him to face him. "When we were up on the roofs I was overlooking the harbour but I didn't see the Esperanza."

"That might be because I sent her away before I went to save yer ass." Jack replied smugly before looking outside again. "Apparently there's a door in the wall. Let's go."

Bill didn't let go of him. "Why, did ye wanna beat me in doing something stupid?"

Jack shot him an enervated glance and rolled his eyes. "Well, contrary to the general opinion I do care about others," he grasped his friend and dragged him along to the door which was neither locked nor guarded, "at least occasionally. And…" A smile lightened his face when he discovered that the door led to a small fishing harbour with many small boats; they merely had to pick one. "…of course only if the person is worth being cared about. Now would ye please be so kind and help me with this boat before I regret caring 'bout ye bloody bastard. Ta!"

Bill was mildly confused. "But the treasure? After all, they might try to cheat on ye and pinch it."

"So what?" With a shrug Jack leapt into the boat, picked up the oars and started pulling. "'Tis just gold and jewels, sparkling, glittering, scintillating junk that ye find everywhere in the world. Pretty bauble, nice trifle, beautiful to look at but otherwise quite meaningless. Losing it doesn't affect me but riches without a friend is merely sadness in wealth."

Swallowing hard, Bill placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Nah, no use to get overly sentimental now and please spare me saying something like 'ye're a good man, Captain Jack Sparrow' 'cause that would only sound pathetic and besides, it's not even true. I'm no good man, at least I wasn't before I met you. I was aimlessly drifting around, not much of a soul. Santiago had filled me with knowledge, taught me to read and write and fight, but never cared much about me. Always so emotionally restrained, that rubs off. Sent me to sail with Morgan when he raided Panama City, that taught me a great deal about cruelty and the blackest depths of the human soul. Then you came along and gave me kindness, friendship, morality without moralizing, compassion, conscience - all the bloody things a bloody pirate doesn't bloody need. Things that probably lost me the Pearl to Barbossa but I'm damned lucky I didn't end up like him, because of you."

"No, not because of me. Don't demean yerself, Jack. I gave ye nothing ye didn't already have; mayhap I helped them come to the surface. And ye also gave so much back."

"Aye, I taught ye to lie and cheat."

"Ye taught me to survive."

"Ah, good point. However, I kept ye away from yer family. I knew how much ye longed for Claire and Will but I was so selfishly contented when ye stayed, year after year. I didn't want to let you go."

"Ye wouldn't have kept me away from them if it wasn't my own decision to stay; I didn't want to give up the life we led, the sea, the Pearl. So, I guess I'm the selfish one. After all, I had obligations."

"Well then, now that we've cleared that ye could stop nuzzlin' me shoulder and help me row."

They rowed in silence for an hour, then they reached the island behind which the Black Pearl lay at anchor. The sight of her would always make Jack's heart leap, he would never cease to admire her majestic dark beauty. Actually he believed himself to be a not very demanding man, all he needed was his ship, a friend to drink rum with, and a good screw. Life would be perfect if Rowan was here. He also loved a good adventure to add to the legends that grew around Captain Jack Sparrow.

Putting the oars aside he looked up to the Pearl's figurehead. "Ah, ain't she a real beauty. The fastest ship in the Caribbean they say but I swear there's hardly any ship in the whole world that can match her in speed."

Bill stared at him, trying to grasp what he had just said. He felt the urge to bang his head at something, anything. "Ye never believed for a second that the treasure was lost to ye 'cause ye knew all the time the Pearl could catch up with the Esperanza?"

"Aye. " A broad, self-satisfied smile spread on the pirate captain's face. He cocked his head and shouted orders to the crew aboard the Pearl to get him up on deck.

"But all that talk about meaningless bauble…" For a moment Bill wasn't sure anymore what to believe.

"I meant every word I said. Would I lie?"

"Most definitely- intentionally, without blushing or batting an eye."

"Ta, I consider that a compliment. However, would I lie to you?"

Before Bill could make up an answer, Jack was being lifted aboard and he remained in the boat, waiting for his turn; his head full of questions, possible answers and half-truths. Also, he was still stunned and moved at the same time about the talk they had had on their way. When he was pulled up little later, Jack was already arranging for the hostages to be set ashore.

The real Don Ignacio shot him a look filled with hatred. "One day you will regret your evil deeds, pirate. You will rot in hell!"

"Gracias senor, for wishing me to end my days in a warm place with lots of friends." Jack sketched a bow and waved him goodbye, then he turned around to bark orders at his crew.

"All hands on deck! Hoist the anchor! Scurry, ye scabby dogs! Set the sails! Mr Gibbs, we're heading for the Isla del Coco!"

"Aye, Captain!" Gibbs supervised that the commands were being carried out properly before addressing his captain. "May I ask ye a question?"

"Ye may ask as many questions as ye want, Mr Gibbs, as long as ye don't expect me to answer them."

"What went wrong that made ye change yer plan? And what about the treasure?"

"Aye, what about the treasure?" Marty interjected as he pointed an accusing finger at Jack. "Ye promised us a tremendous treasure."

"And a treasure ye'll get if ye stop botherin' me and simply do as ye're told, midget." Jack lifted his eyes from Marty's small statue to meet Gibbs' gaze. "Well, actually nothing went wrong. The treasure was safely stowed in the Esperanza's hold when Mr Turner decided that my perfect plan was a tad boring and needed more action to which I whole-heartedly agreed, considering that keeping to the Code is just something for people with poor imagination and low ideals, savvy?"

Gibbs muttered an agreement to something he didn't understand and turned around in order to take a surreptitiously swig from his flask. "More action? Sort of like adding salt to the soup?"

"Um, a tad spicier perhaps, more like chili." Jack grinned. With a grand gesture he pranced towards the helm, then stopped as if stumbling over Marty, rummaged through his pockets and dropped a golden ring with a ruby in Marty's hand. "Here my greedy little midget I found ye a crown. So if ye'll please excuse me now, I have to plait me beard."

author's note: This is probably my last update for a while. Maybe I'm just overtired but I'm absolutely fed up with getting no reviews.

14


	16. Moments in Transition

chapter 16- Moments in Transition

The Black Pearl reached the Isla del Coco a fortnight after leaving Callao. She had not caught up with the Santa Esperanza although she would have, easily, if her captain had let her. But he had been contented with seeing the sails of the Spanish galleon in the distance, observing her through his telescope like he was the hunter and she was his prey. He wanted to lull her into a false sense of security so if she made a mistake and changed her course he would set every last bit of canvas to hunt her down. Of course it would have been easier to just sail alongside and talk about the treasure but things were never easy when Captain Jack Sparrow was involved; he liked challenges.

He approached the Esperanza carefully, warily, almost as if expecting an ambush. However, she did not run out her cannons, her crew did not intend to fight over the treasure although it did seem that someone aboard had picked a fight, Jack thought when he boarded her with Rafael's explicit permission and noticed Santos' black eye. He also noticed that the hierarchy aboard had changed, the younger Garcia was no longer in command- after all, he had merely played captain. Now his older brother had taken over his position and though he would never be a good sailor he knew at least enough to navigate, so the crew had agreed to accept him as captain. Alvarez, one of the Esperanza's former crewmembers, and Scruffy, a pirate from the Pearl, assisted him. Together they had done a god job so far and they didn't even dispute Jack's right to the treasure. After all, everything was for an equal share.

"What happened to him?" Jack asked Rafael as he pointed at his younger brother.

"Family affairs, nothing you should worry about, Captain Sparrow. You should know though that we had problems with one of the Spaniards, a really unpleasant guy who did a lot of mutinous talking. Alvarez thought it better to shoot him." Rafael reported.

Jack didn't know whether to be overwhelmed because they didn't intend to betray them or call them stupid fools just because of that. The hold was stuffed with treasure and yet they hadn't tried to steal themselves away with it like he probably would have done but then again it was he who had the faster ship.

The Isla del Coco was a pirate's island where pirates came to restore their supplies of drinking water and food since the jungle there was full of beasts to hunt. Apparently it was also an island where pirates liked to hide their booty as Jack noticed on the second day of their stay when he almost accidentally stumbled across a cave while merely taking a stroll. However, any unknown cave would only spur on his curiosity so of course he went to explore it.

"Oh bugger," he gasped as the light of his torch was multiplied reflected by heaps of gold, silver and gemstones, "more junk!"

"Nice trifle, beautiful to look at but otherwise quite meaningless." Bill teased him when he saw Jack rummaging through the treasure, a thrilled look on his face. "For someone who pretends not to care 'bout that junk ye seem to have an odd fascination with sparkling and glittering things."

Jack held up a necklace made of silver and sapphires. "The man who made this would like to see his work appreciated and not rotting in a cave. This was supposed to touch the soft skin of a fine lady and taking it merely helps to get it back to its predestined place."

"Ye're such a noble, selfless man. I take it that the price we'll get for this doesn't affect ye at all?"

Jack grinned broadly. "Good deeds shall be rewarded."

"I'll fetch some hands to get the stuff loaded." Bill left the cave laughing.

The pirates left Isla del Coco in a convoy of two heavily laden ships. Captain Jack Sparrow quipped that he'd like to be called Commodore from now on but, of course, no one took that seriously.

They were on their way to the Asian Seas where they wanted to celebrate their successful raid in typical pirate manner when one day Rafael Garcia begged for permission to come aboard the Black Pearl, actually asking for a private audience with Jack. He carried along a book, put it on the table and flipped it open to reveal pages scribbled with numbers.

Rafael had gained a lot of self-confidence during those past months since leaving Samaná and though he was still very polite in the face of Captain Sparrow, he had lost his submissiveness. When he talked to him now, they were talking on an equal level. Jack liked that because it proved him right that he hadn't overestimated his talents and he liked being right in the end.

"I took my time to at least vaguely value our load and that's the sum I got." He pointed at an underlined number before giving complicated reasons why that sum could possibly differ from what they would actually get for their plunder but Jack cut him short.

"Well done, and I really appreciate yer efforts, but I think ye miscalculated the value a bit. The statue is said to be worth almost as much as that." Wagering his hands over the underlined number he glanced at Rafael, wondering if the Spaniard tried to cheat him.

"Um," Rafael scratched his head, "beg your pardon, Captain, but that is the equal share everyone is supposed to get."

Jack's eyes widened; he almost fell off his chair when he tried to multiply the sum by all the pirates that sailed under his flag but failed due to utter disbelief. It certainly couldn't be that much. "Ye're sure ye're right?"

"I am, definitely."

"Oh bloody hell!" Jack had to pour himself a drink, still not believing it. He was rich- they all were rich, incredibly, ridiculously rich. That was probably more money than he could ever spend in his whole life, he could retire and settle down if that wouldn't be much too boring. No, he needed to be at sea, he needed to see new horizons, and he needed the thrill of a new adventure. "Well, first of all I'll buy ye the finest black canvas in the world, luv."

Rafael gave him a puzzled look. "Pardon me?"

"Not you- I was talking to Pearl."

"Oh." There were times when Rafael really doubted Captain Sparrow's sanity but apparently he didn't seem to mind but kept on babbling to his ship.

"Of course I'll careen ye. No one likes to be encrusted with barnacles and I do care for ye. Ye know I want ye to be the prettiest ship in the world. Now, go and fetch Bill, we gotta talk a few things over… Rafael! Scurry!"

It took him a while to figure out that Jack had been addressing him and not the Black Pearl. A man soliloquizing was distressing but a man talking to a ship was startlingly mad.

Jack discussed the problem of being damned rich with Bill and they agreed to tell the crew how much each of them would get. It was Bill's idea however to offer them the choice to either get the total sum paid out at once so they could retire from piracy and start a new life as a rich man, or to stay aboard the Pearl on a generous wage while the greater part of the treasure would be hidden. Most of the pirates decided to stay, only a few took the chance to return to their families. Santos and three of the newly recruited Spaniards wanted to keep the Esperanza to start their own piracy career so they parted in Shanghai after a last night of debauchery. Rafael left too; together with his new friend Alvarez he wanted to travel through Asia and study.

"And what d'ye want?" Jack asked Bill that night in Shanghai.

"I want ye to join me when I visit Master Chang in the monastery tomorrow."

It was a strange wish but Jack wouldn't turn down a friend, especially not since he knew how much that meant to his friend. Bill had always complained that his son had been completely ignorant about his life amongst Buddhist monks so he wouldn't make the same mistake and besides, those years in the monastery had changed Bill in a positive way; he profited from that too.

After Shanghai they sailed to Macao and from there to Singapore, celebrating their riches and enjoying the pleasures of life ashore, before they headed for Ko Samui to careen the Pearl. Jack could have sworn she sailed the way in record time, eager to get her new sails given that there were bales of the finest black canvas stowed in her hold.

Ko Samui was a good place to careen a ship; it was away from important trading routes and absolutely free of any European authorities or rival pirates, a perfect hiding place. Also, the people living on this island were very friendly and they welcomed the pirates with open arms except for one elderly matron who slapped Gibbs before pinching his cheek with a broad smile. Without resistance he followed her to her hut.

"Never thought he'd find himself a girl." Bill commented that scene.

"Guess why we came to offer ye the position as first mate that night in Malakka- Gibbs was too scared of asking Sirikid. She's very possessive but I swear he loves her dearly. At least her cooking." Jack fell silent, lost in thoughts of those wonderful months raiding the Strait of Malakka with Rowan at his side and Bill being first mate of the Pearl again. Life was perfect then.

Life was miserable now. He had almost forgotten how much he missed Rowan but here, where he'd been so happy with her and the adventures of everyday life, all the memories came flooding back and hit him like a kick in the stomach. Missing her became an almost physical pain when he walked to the house they had lived in, her house. He strolled though empty rooms that held no trace of her but memories, apparently she hadn't came to visit since they had parted, twenty-one months and four days ago. No letter telling him she'd been looking for him, no word left with Taksin and Ubol where to find her; they hadn't seen her either. They asked for her but he pretended not to understand enough Siamese to answer this question although he had learned their language quite well back then. Taksin offered him to stay and he almost fled- under no circumstances he could stay one night in this house, in the same bed they had shared. He wasn't a masochist. No, he'd rather sleep at the beach during careening the Pearl and distract himself with hard work. The sooner they left Ko Samui again the better. It had been a stupid idea to come here in the first place.

Jack changed his mind though when watching Bill who seemed to light up, beaming with joy ever since they had reached the Asian Seas. Bill had always loved Asia, been fascinated with its people, culture and religion from the very first moment on .It was strange, he never managed to learn any European language but he had a knack for Asian ones and spoke at least three different tongues fluently let alone the ones he could read. Mayhap Bill would have been much better off if they had not messed up his perfectly peaceful life in the monastery by dragging his son half around the world to meet the father he was only interested in for sentimental reasons. After all, this Buddhist monastery had been an utterly peaceful place crowded with the most friendly, serene people Jack had ever met. Who never condemned him for being a pirate, merely curious to find out the reasons why. He had been honest with them- it wasn't possible to lie to them given that he did have a conscience hidden somewhere behind all of his eccentricity and arrogance, and they had seen behind that. In the end they had called him a good man and for the first time it hadn't sounded like a poor excuse for not considering him as bad as other pirates.

But when he'd asked Bill if he had preferred to stay in the monastery all he'd gotten was an odd glance as if he was doubting his sanity. Well, he was used to that since most people got that impression of him though he didn't know why. Bill however had never given him that look before- well, perhaps occasionally during the first few weeks of their acquaintance but that had been a long time ago.

It was good to have a friend like Bill, one who really cared and never failed to equalize his mental balance. Without Rowan he felt heart broken but without Bill he probably wouldn't have a heart at all and he had meant everything he had said to him that sentimental moment in the rowboat.

Jack sat at the beach, his back against a palm tree, a bottle of local whiskey in his hands, trying to drink himself into unconsciousness when Bill appeared from out of nowhere and took the bottle off his hands.

"Evil stuff- makes ye blind and impotent. I guess ye probably don't care much 'bout the first but the last"

"Bloody hell, where've ye been?" Jack cut him off with an accusing edge in his voice. Bill had been gone for two days and these two days had not been very pleasant given that he had been missing two persons instead of one.

"Wat Kiri Mat."

"Ye spent two days in a bloody temple without telling me ye're going there in the first place?"

"Aye. I needed to talk to monk Loungpor Daeng because I was worrying 'bout ye and Rowan"

Jack interrupted him again, this time more angrily. "Ye talked 'bout me bloody relationship with a bloody monk I don't even know at all? What gives ye the right to do that? Who d'ye bloody think ye are?"

"I'm yer bloody friend. Damned, it's bleeding me to see ye hurt, missing her like hell, and that's not good for my karma so I had to meditate and seek mental advice."

"Ah, yer karma- well my karma is in that bottle so give it back to me." Jack flung himself at Bill, trying to get hold of the bottle with the result that Bill tipped backwards, Jack landed atop of him, and the bottle was rolling away spilling its liquid in the sand.

"Blast! Are ye totally nuts or d'ye just wanna show me yer affection? Get off of me!" Bill rolled his eyes when Jack did what he'd been told but only in order to crawl after the bottle. Fortunately it was already empty.

"Why's the booze always gone?" Jack gave the bottle a frustrated shaking but it was definitely empty. He glanced at Bill. "'Tis yer fault."

"So it may be but this Mekong whiskey really is an awful stuff and I don't mind that it's gone."

"Now ye sound like yer lovely daughter-in-law when she told me that rum is a vile drink."

"Well, that only proves that Elisabeth knows nothing about rum."

"True." Jack sat up, facing Bill. "But that doesn't change the fact that the booze is gone and I absolutely **do** need a drink now."

"No, ye don't."

"I do!"

"No." Bill said firmly as he knelt in front of him, his hands on Jack's shoulders, ready to give him a good shaking when required but otherwise just resting there. "There's no way to drug away yer pain because it won't go away by dulling yer senses. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. Once I was as desperate as ye are now…" Jack made an attempt to protest since Captain Jack Sparrow was not desperate **ever**, but Bill just tightened his grip and he slouched wordlessly. "… I thought that chasing the dragon was a good idea to forget but in the end not all the opium in the world could have undone that I failed ye, or that Claire and Will were dead. I wished I'd had someone to talk to then- well, I could mourn my family but not the loss of my friend given that Santiago had given strict orders not to mention yer name. I had to lie about the years sailing with ye aboard the Pearl like I had to lie to ye about him having sent me and of course he also made me hide the fact he was a magician…"

"Ye knew that?"

"Aye. When ye'd been cursed, feeling nothing, and then were un-cursed the instant after being dragged aboard his trawler ye'd started wondering too. I asked him and he didn't deny it but he made me not to talk about it. Blast, I was so full of unspoken words I nearly choked on them and **that** made me chase the dragon. Only in my opium dreams I could escape the web of lies I had become entangled with and I hated Santiago for what he'd done to me. If he hadn't insisted in me keeping my mouth shut about how ye came by the Pearl, if I'd been less obedient then, if I had told ye earlier- well we still would have had an argument, ye'd still been mad at me but probably not so completely out of yerself as finding it out five years later, accidentally. Probably ye wouldn't have sacked a loyal crew and replaced them with Barbossa and his miscreants, there wouldn't have been a mutiny, Barbossa wouldn't have taken away the Pearl and Santiago would have been there to protect Rowan instead of saving me. That whole bloody mess just happened 'cause he's such a goddamned mystery-monger. It wasn't merely for my health he sent me to the monastery but because I became rebellious, started to constantly arguing with him, would have even picked a fight although I knew he was a magician."

"Ye're really daft, William Turner." Jack gasped, shaking his head, but the look he gave his friend was full of sympathy. "How many time have I told ye not to do anything stupid?"

"Too many times and yet not often enough." Bill squeezed Jack's shoulders before he let go of him and sat down more comfortably, legs crossed. "However, he didn't intend to harm me, just wanted to keep me away from Rowan I guess. He considered me as bad influence for his dear little girl though she was anything but a dear little girl. Well, probably I was…" He fell silent, insecurely meeting Jack's glance and feeling very relieved when there was no undercurrent of animosity in his eyes, no hidden jealousy. Nevertheless he thought he had to explain it again, the feeling of being lost and lonely that had driven them to seek comfort in each other's arms. "That night I told her everything that had transpired, 'bout ye. It was so good to talk, finally. Actually I even wanted to talk her into sailing to the Caribbean in order to find ye"

"No. Not after all the things I'd called ye!" Jack was astounded, almost rendered speechless, feeling abashed as if ye'd been rebuked and yet overwhelmed. Nibbling at his lips he stared at his feet, the patterns his bare toes formed in the sand. The idea was too absurd; he had made a point to offend Bill in the worst way when anger born out of frustration and betrayal had affected his mind so he couldn't have thought clearly, and although he had regretted his harsh words later, he had always thought it had been too late. He'd never imagined Bill would have wanted to try and help him, and yet that was typical Bill; his friendship was unwavering. He cleared his throat, trying to say something that wouldn't sound lame when Bill got to his feet and brushed the sand off his clothes.

"Damned, now I'm the one who could use a drink. Come, let's see if we can get one at Choi's."

Jack followed him all too eagerly as they walked across the beach towards a small tavern next to where all the local fishing boats were moored. He wrapped an arm around Bill's shoulder. "Though I mightily appreciate yer great ideas I hope ye do realize that ye've been the one who told me that all the booze won't be of any help, aye?"

"Getting drunk all on yer onesies on awful rotgut isn't of any help but sharing a bottle of decent rum with a friend is always a good idea."

"Except we won't get any decent rum here." Jack pointed out drearily.

"Ah, there ye're wrong since. Our lovely Anamaria made friends with Choi while she was here and Choi's still benefiting from that friendship, therefore she will always have a few bottles of the finest, smuggled Caribbean rum." Bill fell silent for a moment before he picked up the previous topic again. "I knew ye didn't mean the things ye said to me then given the state ye were in but Santiago almost forced me to leave ye 'cause of Rowan and years later he thwarted my plans of getting her assistance to find ye by catching me off guard while I was chasing the dragon for the very a last time." He shrugged. "At least that's what I wanted to make meself believe but fact was that I was addicted to opium then; dunno whether I could have quitted smoking it all on me own. Probably it had been a good idea to send me to the monastery, mayhap we'd all be dead now if he hadn't stopped me. After all, he definitely was a wise man, only too consumed with his own business to really care about others except Rowan who he truly doted on with all his heart."

"Don't get 'im wrong, Alf was a good man who knew what he was doing and in the end he sacrificed himself for me- though _sacrificed_ might not be the right word given that he wanted to be redeemed."

Bill didn't know much about Santiago's past- except for what Jack and Rowan had casually mentioned- but he didn't bother. All he wanted to know was why Jack called him Alf while everyone else called him Santiago or Don Miguel.

"That's why," Jack emphasized in his typical logic before he cared to elaborate, "I called him Alf because no one else did and because he was special to me, because he seemed to care about the wild street urchin I was. He, however, didn't get it and merely thought I was too stupid to remember his name properly- like he thought I was too stupid to learn Latin. I always wondered why a pirate captain should learn Latin when all I wanted to know was how to sail a ship. Well, apparently he'd learned from failing me 'cause he did a thorough job with Rowan… "

"Oh yeah, Rowan- now that reminds me of what I wanted to discuss with ye in the first place"

"Damned," Jack cut him off, "ye really have to find yerself a girl to stop ye from interfering in my not relationship with said bloody wench 'cause I really couldn't care less 'bout her."

"Ah, is that why ye were so frantically investigating 'bout her in every port we came to along our way?"

"I wasn't frantic, just a tad curious. After all, we did have a good time and…"He fell silent when they entered the tavern and he spotted a slender woman with dark hair flowing to her hips. Unfortunately she wasn't too enthusiastic about late guests since the tavern was already empty, so she muttered something in Siamese that she wanted to close. Then suddenly she smiled which made Jack believe it was because of him and he puffed himself up a little bit more until he noticed that she wasn't smiling at him but at Bill behind him. His jaw dropped.

"A bottle of rum, Master Turner?" She asked politely.

"Aye, that'd be fine, Choi."

They exchanged some more words in Siamese but the conversation was too fast for Jack to follow, then Choi left the two pirates on their own and headed for her own room on the upper floor, leaving Bill in charge with the keys.

"She's quite a beauty, ain't she?" He said teasingly while Bill uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses.

"Aye, that she is and ye better keep yer hands to yerself."

Jack raised his hands in a defensive gesture of utmost innocence, quipping, "Ah, so it is ye already found yerself a girl- even a girl with a tavern which is definitely better than a girl without a tavern, but it's hurting me ye could actually think I would ever make advance on a woman ye've laid yer eyes on."

"No, of course not and I certainly trust ye that much nevertheless it won't harm to dampen ye from time to time, just as a polite reminder. However, " he raised his glass in a toast, "my affair with Choi is not to be debate now but ye and Rowan."

"Why d'ye keep insisting so stubbornly on that topic?" Jack moaned. "Methinks I already told that I'm respecting her decision…"

"Forget that! I know ye made a point to accept her reasons, and that ye want her to come back on her own free will. I always approved of that but- damned, it's almost two years since ye parted- now I'm beginning to worry if it was a good idea to start respecting other people's wishes given that ye didn't care much 'bout them before. Don't get me wrong, I'm not calling ye indifferent or uncaring, I'm merely saying ye probably chose an inopportune moment. There's no sense in being a decent man if decency's gnawing at ye- and given the state Rowan was in when she left ye. Go looking for her, Jack."

"Why?"

Because I'm worried, Bill thought, because I know what she had been like after things had gone so dreadfully wrong with Tyag. She had tried to hide her feelings but I know how desperate she had been, as desperate as I'd been. I had forgotten about that because I'm happy now; it had been Loungpor who'd reminded me of those days…But he just gave Jack a long, thoughtful glance and said, "Because yer Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Now that is a good point." Jack agreed.

"Aye, and the Captain Jack Sparrow I know doesn't run from problems, he faces them and solves them with both brilliance and madness."

"And ye're a flattering bastard," Jack replied affectionately.

"Ye never gave up hoping to get the Pearl back one day and ye got her back. But people aren't like ships. People change and sometimes their change isn't favorable; there is a tendency within us to be swallowed by darkness and to become bitter, unfeeling and numb. I know what I'm talking about since I used to be dangling at that edge once…"

Jack recalled Rowan saying at Isla de Muerta _…I felt like I'm dying inside, my heart was shattered after that and it took me so fucking long to collect all the broken pieces… I don't wanna end up all unfeeling and totally numb…_ and suddenly he understood what Bill was about; he couldn't phrase it in words but he definitely got the meaning. He emptied his glass in a long swig, placed it on the table for an instant refill and drowned that quickly too. "But I bloody don't know where she is. No one has seen her lately- and the South Chinese Sea as well as the Strait of Malacca had been her favourite fishing grounds."

"Aye, that's true. But I've heard she's been sailing with Chen for a while so we should ask him."

"Chen- ye mean the same scabrous villain whose sister ye've been so fond of then? The same bloody knave who promised to castrate ye if he ever found ye gazing at his sister again? Now that really sounds like deliberately looking for trouble."

"Ah, we long have settled our differences- well, actually it was Tao who persuaded him to leave me alone. At gunpoint. She's quite a little spitfire."

"Ye're absolutely sure ye're merely insisting to talk to Chen because ye care so much 'bout Rowan's and my well-being or are ye secretly hoping to meet that li'le spitfire again?"

The way Bill blushed proved that Jack had guessed right- so there **was **an ulterior motive. But that only made him smirk, never doubting his real motives, because he knew of Bill's weakness for Asian women. There had been times when he'd pestered his friend with mockery, made fun of him because he wouldn't betray Claire, always pointing out that he was a married man- he'd even called him a eunuch even though he'd fathered a son- until they had reached Asia. Almost overnight Bill had forgotten about faithfulness or virtues and soon he'd had a girl waiting for him in almost every Asian port they dropped anchor in. Regarding that Jack should've rather worried about celibacy in monasteries instead of asking himself whether it had been wise to drag him away from there.

"Probably she's long married with a flock of kids, just like Ynes. However, ye're trying to distract me again. What about ye and Rowan? Will ye go looking for her even though ye don't know where?"

"Damned, what're we talking 'bout the whole time?" Jack rolled his eyes heavenwards as if doubting he friend's sanity- which he didn't, by the way. "Since, most probably, ye won't stop pestering me to do the right thing according to what ye believe the right thing is we might as well sail to Singapore and have a little chat with Chen- at least if Singapore is still the place where he makes berth. Otherwise…"

"Aye?" Bill flashed Jack a curious glance, wondering what other alternatives he was brooding over as it were.

"Well, me friend Jamie might have a clue, given that his little fleet controls the controls the Bay of Bengal; he should know about piracy activities in his waters."

"Jamie? Ah, that stiff naval officer, Commodore Norrington…"

"He really isn't that stiff anymore, thanks to Catherine." Jack wondered whether she'd still be in Madras or back in England to get divorced from her husband, the Earl of Shrewsbury, who thought her ruined after being held captive in a madman's harem. Bloody, snobbish high-society. However, he'd seen to it that she would not be a penniless, divorced woman even if her reputation was spoiled, and at least Norrington had proven to be man enough to ignore that. Finally they had been able to live out their love- although in secrecy- but being happy had definitely suited him. The harsh lines in his face had softened when they'd last met, after Jack had came back to Madras from delivering the Turners to Port Royal.

But he's still a bloody naval officer, Bill thought as he held no love for them, and he hadn't forgotten the bullying aboard naval ships. On the other hand Norrington had not treated him like scum; it was good to be a pirate. It was also good that he'd managed to talk Jack into doing something about Rowan though he had expected it to be more difficult. He'd assumed a great deal of convincing would have been necessary to make him change his stubborn mind but in the end it merely proved that you could always trust Jack to be unpredictable.

"Well then," Jack crammed the rum bottle under his arm and got up, "since ye seem eager to get upstairs where lovely Choi is waiting for ye I better take my leave. We sail as soon as we're done with careening."

Bill stopped him, his hand stretched out. "Haven't ye forgotten something?"

Jack flashed him a golden smile as he took the outstretched hand and shook it heartily. "Good night me dear an' I wish ye a very pleasant screw."

Them he scampered off into the night, merrily swinging the half full rum bottle. Bill watched him walking towards the dark silhouette of the Pearl still hauled up on the beach, looking as if she longed to be out on the sea again, to feel the waves caressing her hull and to tease the wind with her brand new black canvas. He saw Jack raising the bottle in a silent toast to his ship before he locked the door, shaking his head. You also could trust Jack to never leave an unemptied bottle.

He walked up the stairs to the upper floor, reflecting this evening, but when Choi welcomed him in bed with a warm embrace he simply stopped thinking and enjoyed the pleasures only a woman could give him, and she knew quite well what a man like him needed. It was affection mingled with some sort of understanding, comfort and lust. Bill didn't need much more. He certainly didn't envy Jack for having found his perfect match when he missed her so much it almost physically hurt- but well, Captain Jack Sparrow never did anything in moderation; he always lived life to the extreme and that included love as well.

-

"He's gone," the old Chinese said with an expressionless smile.

"Care to elaborate what ye mean with 'he's gone'? Gone as in he sailed away ye just missed him or"

"Sailed away to the eternal havens of Nirvana."

"Could ye perhaps be less cryptic and a tad more clear?"

"He's gone."

"Aye, ye mentioned that." Jack rolled his eyes as the old Chinese shrugged indifferently and turned his attention to his fishing net again; he made it quite obvious that he wasn't interested in continuing this conversation. Unfortunately most people in Singapore held the same attitude nowadays, they were more reserved than usual, and the atmosphere in the city was tense with an undercurrent of hostility against strangers.

"Jack, I think he's trying to tell ye that Chen is dead," Bill interpreted the Chinaman's words.

"Then why doesn't he say so?" The pirate captain grumbled. That wasn't good; he had hoped Chen could tell him where Rowan was. He listened to Bill exchanging a few words in Mandarin with the old man whose mien seemed to brighten up a bit.

"Ask him about Hua Hin, Chen's second in command."

Bill translated Jack's question although the Chinese had understood him, his shrewd glance proved that.

"He says he's gone too."

Jack got slightly impatient. "So who's in command on Chen's little fleet of junks now?"

The Chinaman started talking, first with a sad tone in his voice and then with more and more contempt. He cursed the Europeans- as Bill translated- for having come to Asia and, though they had been welcomed with hospitality, all they had in mind was to exploit, to rule and suppress, to convent with fire and sword. Like Chen, his family had stemmed from Macao but he had to flee his hometown because it had become dangerous to be of Buddhist belief in midst of fanatic Catholics. He had admired Chen for being so bold to threaten and pester the big Portuguese, Dutch and British galleons with his fleet of small junks, and he damned the East India Trading Company for having put an end to that.

"Why don't ye tell him that we're the good ones who also love to pester Portuguese, Dutch and British galleons? And that we definitely hold no love for the East India Trading Company either." Jack scratched his pirate brand but stopped immediately when he noticed Bill watching him.

"Go on. **Now** ye can scratch as much as ye want but it would be less visible if ye hadn't kept on scratching then, when it was beginning to heal."

"But it was itching then." Jack muttered under his breath before he concentrated on the here and now again. "What did he mean with the East India Trading Company putting an end to Chen's heroic deeds? Did they kill him?"

The Chinaman reached out to take Jack's hand and pulled him closer, tracing along the lines of his brand with rough, calloused fingers. "They killed them all and burned their ships. The Silver Dragon of our hopes is gone. We will lose our land to more and more long-noses with pale faces coming across the seas from far countries. They call it founding new colonies but I call it suppression in the name of the God they homage, power and wealth…"

"Wait a minute mate- are ye indicating that the bastards of the East India Trading Company actually managed to destroy Chen's whole fleet? At least ten junks plus a crew of over two hundred honest pirates?"

The Chinaman nodded.

"But… but," Jack had to swallow hard; he'd never been too fond of Chen personally but he had always respected him as a good pirate, a thoughtful captain and caring leader. He had also learned from Bill that Chen and Rowan had been allies… perhaps even more, occasionally. No, not good- he didn't want to think about that. At least not now. Now he needed to be in his clear mind in order to ask the right questions. "What happened?"

"Betrayal."

_Oh no, we're back to cryptic answers again_. "Could ye please be so kind to specify that?"

"Not much is known about how it happened. They were slaughtered in their sleep, their throats slit and their ships burned, after celebrating at a beach of Pulau Batam. There are rumors about a traitor amongst them, a spy from the Company."

A shiver ran down Jack's spine as he looked across the sea to said island straight opposite of Singapore. Had Rowan been with Chen? But before he could ask about her Bill beat him to it.

The Chinaman gave Jack a thoughtful glance. "No, the Red Dragon was seen after that, sailing west. Where she is now I cannot tell though. No more good pirates in these waters, only long-nosed privateers."

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. So Rowan was alive and apparently heading west. That was good given that Madras was west of Singapore. He had to give orders to set sails as soon as possible; now it was time to pay Commodore Norrington a visit. Then suddenly he noticed that something was wrong with Bill, as if he was choking on a question still unasked. He elbowed his friend and pointed his head at the Chinaman.

"If ye want to ask him about Chen's lovely sister, this would be the opportune moment."

Bill blushed, embarrassed.

"The Jade Dragon was not with her brother when he got murdered, that much is sure."

"Good, eh?" Jack smiled broadly, patting his friend's shoulder. "The next question would be where she is. Maybe she lives somewhere near so ye could go and comfort"

"Jack!"

"Hey mate, I'm just trying to be helpful since ye seem to be kinda shy today."

Bill seized Jack's arm and dragged him away. "If ye want to be helpful shut up. It's been more than ten years since I last saw her so let sleeping dogs lie."

Jack ignored his protest and turned to the old Chinaman, "Say, ye don't happen to know where Tao is?"

"I don't want to know." Bill growled as he walked towards the Black Pearl. "And now excuse me please, I have to meditate."

"Well," Jack shot the Chinaman an encouraging smile, "but I want to know."

About two hours later, after the Pearl had left the harbour of Singapore, Jack entered his cabin and found Bill sitting crossed-legged on the bed, apparently so lost in meditation that he didn't notice him. Or didn't want to take notice of him. That, of course, didn't bother Jack. He let himself drop on the bed and rested his head on Bill's leg, looking up at him with a wry half smile on his lips. His hands started to speak before the first word had left his mouth, dancing in the air straight in front of his friend's face. Now there was no chance for Bill not to take notice of him.

"Ye know, a wise man told me once that the sleeping dogs I wanted to let lie weren't sleeping at all; it was the same wise man who always pesters me to talk about things apparently troubling me."

"Ye call me a wise man, Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"Nah, I just wanted to get yer attention."

"Ye're good at that anyway." Bill sighed, "So what d'ye wanna hear?"

"Everything about ye and Tao of course."

"There isn't much to talk about. I had a crush on her and we had an affair, that's all. I was still a married man then so"

"Ah, so it was more than just a little crush." Jack interrupted with a knowing smile.

"Whatever it was, there was never an opportune moment for us. The first time we met I was married to Claire and later"

"There was a later?"

"Jack, if ye wanna hear my story why don't ye hear me out without interrupting me all the time?"

"I'll be silent as a grave from now on." Jack claimed solemnly but Bill just chuckled; he really couldn't imagine that. His fingers found a bead of Jack's hair and he started toying with it as he continued.

"Yea, there was a later. Remember that I spent many years in Asia with Rowan and Santiago, so of course I met Tao occasionally. But- like I mentioned before- the time was never right to start something more serious. I was in a real bad state of mind then, restless, frustrated, consumed with a grievous pain. I took all the comfort she gave me but couldn't give anything in return, my mind was always somewhere else. Actually I didn't even want to be happy, it didn't feel right, not after everything that had gone so fucking wrong. She knew that. I remember she looked at me once and told me outright that I was only half the man she used to know, that the other half of my soul was missing. She was right with that, but it took me many years to find out what she had meant. Now I know. However, it's too late to revive a feeling that had never been strong enough to survive."

Jack sat up so abruptly that Bill had no time to let go of the bead in his fingers. His head jerked back and he screamed, "Ouch! Stop fiddling with me hair!" Then he looked Bill straight in the eye, shaking his head. "Yer a daft idiot and a bloody awful liar, William Turner. I hope ye know that. Rum?"

"Rum is always a good idea."

They sat together in silence for a while, drinking, both well aware of what Tao had been about without the need to say it. Finally Jack said, "Just in case ye care to know, she never married nor does she have a flock of kiddies attached to her apron strings- I can hardly imagine her with an apron anyway. Instead she had joined her brother's fleet, captaining her own little junk, and if the old Chinaman is right she has her mind set on revenge. Now go back to meditation, I have a ship to steer- which, by the way, is quite close to meditation."

-

Commodore James Norrington paced his office, clenching a letter from the Admiralty in his hands. Finally he was being ordered back to London as he had requested. Of course that request wasn't advantageous for his career and without a command he probably would have to live on half pay but that didn't matter to him as long as he could be with Catherine again. God, he really missed her. It still appeared like a dream to him that they had met again, still feeling the same. No, he thought to himself, not the same because the former juvenile infatuation had grown into a real, deep love, one that would survive the test of time and society. He should be glad.

He wasn't. He had expected a letter from the Admiralty but not one like this, there was something wrong with the wording. It was more like an order to report in London than an answer to his request and that made him worry. Although he had been praised for his courageous attack on Kalpitiya two years ago- Governor Wellington had even suggested a promotion- there was no denial that he had only managed that with the help of a pirate. Now it seemed that his efforts to save some poor women from their regrettable fate and to make the Palk Straits a safer passage didn't matter anymore; what was left was the stale aftertaste that he had allied with a pirate. With Captain Jack Sparrow, a ruthless and bloodthirsty pirate given what the latest reports from London told. James still found it hard to believe- Sparrow's name might be well known in London but they didn't know the man himself. He just couldn't imagine Jack being able to commit such horrible crimes he was being accused of.

James turned around- and froze to the spot. Said pirate, the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, was sitting at his desk, smiling cheerfully at him. How the hell did he get in? However, here's to hoping no one had seen him getting in.

"'ello Jamie."

"Sparrow," the Commodore gasped, still shocked. Then he hurried to his desk and dragged Jack away from there, tossing him against the wall; his hand at the pirate's throat.

Jack yelped. "That's not a nice way to greet"

"Damned what are you doing here? You know that I should arrest you immediately." James cut him off, sounding almost desperate. Once again his duty was conflicting with his personal interest; he owed Jack and besides, he had also come to like this old scallywag. That didn't mean though he was keen on ending up next to him at the gallows. Suddenly he heard the metallic clicking of a pistol being cocked.

"Let go of him."

"Mr Turner?" Now James was utterly confused. The elder Turner didn't look like a man who had been abducted. "I assume you are here on your own free will?"

"Why 'course I am." The two pirates exchanged bewildered glances, then Jack shrugged. "I s'ppose it's the heat in combination with this wig he's wearin'."

The Commodore shook his head, wondering what was going on. Jack behaved as if nothing had happen thus proving the report from London wrong, just like he had imagined. However, he could not risk being seen with Jack Sparrow so he took the man by his shoulders and gave him a shaking. "Listen Jack. Meet me at the tavern in about an hour. I will explain everything then but leave **now**. Please."

The two pirates were sticking their heads together when James Norrington entered the noisy tavern in Madras' docks area. He was glad they had chosen a table in the dark corner of the room and he was also glad he hadn't seen the Black Pearl docked in the harbour. So they were cautious- which led his imagination running wild with questions why they were being cautious. How much about the tales of Sparrow's latest criminal deeds were true? Was he wrong about him? Perhaps Sparrow wasn't the good man he believed him to be but had cheated him for… for what point and purpose? James sat down opposite of Jack in order to keep a sharp eye on him.

"We need to talk."

Bill noticed that the Commodore had dressed down for this meeting. Instead of his uniform he wore plain clothes and he had taken off his wig. Some strands of brown, shoulder-length hair welled from under his hat. He was hardly recognizable but that must have been his intention. After all, he was Vice Governor of Madras and Commodore of all Royal Navy vessels in the harbour, it would definitely spoil his reputation if he was being seen with two notorious pirates.

"Well, that's why I came here for, Jamie. I juss don't get all that fuss ye made in yer office. Are ye so itchy 'cause dear Catherine's back in London or what's wrong with ye?"

"You really don't know…" Either Sparrow had become totally cold-blooded- which James doubted- or the pirate was not only innocent but also completely unaware of the things that had happened.

"Know what?"

James shot a brief gaze at Bill before questioningly looking at Jack; he'd rather prefer to speak to him in private but the pirate captain encouraged him with a fluttering gesture to continue. Apparently he held no secrets from Turner senior. It even seemed they were very familiar with each other like only close friends were so of course it was nonsense that Sparrow had abducted Bill Turner from his home in Port Royal and forced him to join his crew. James should have known that and laughed out loud when reading this report from London given that he had made Bill's acquaintance before. This man would not do anything against his will.

"Governor Swann is dead." James finally said, not giving away any details because he wanted to see Jack's reaction.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I knew he was kinda old but not that old. Was it the gout that killed him? He wouldn't let Bill treat him, bloody prejudices against Chinese medicine if ye ask me… "

"It wasn't the gout that killed him"

"No? However," Jack glanced at Bill, "we should send them a letter of condolence."

James didn't wait for Bill's response but continued. "He got murdered in his sleep."

"Oh bugger! Who would do something like that? Governor Swann was a bore but that's no reason to kill an old man who wouldn't hurt a fly."

"They say you did."

Jack stared at the Commodore in disbelief, not trusting his own ears and at a momentary loss of words.

"Who says that?" Bill wanted to know.

"The new Governor of Port Royal wrote that in his report to London referring to Commodore Richard Morrison and… um, your son, William Turner. They accuse Jack of having attacked a merchant vessel, slaughtered the whole crew, and left no survivors; they further accuse him of having raped a young Lady by the name of Rose Hawkins, of having abducted you, and they believe Jack is responsible for Governor Swann's death. As it seems Will identified a hat and a pistol found at the crime scene as items belonging to Captain Jack Sparrow. The evidence is clear."

"But Jack didn't do any of that and most of all he isn't a cold-blooded murderer. You should know that, Commodore"

"Hush. There is a reason I'm meeting you here and not in my office so please don't mention my title; just call me James. And yes, I studied Jack's file for quite a long time so I do know he is not a cold-blooded murderer. I'm surprise though about your son's change of attitude towards Jack since I can still remember very well his rash, ill-fated attempt to save him from the noose; I thought they were friends."

Jack had thought that too- well, he had never seen Will as a real friend but at least he had expected him to be more loyal and less backstabbing. The familiar pain of shattered trust was back again, stinging worse with every time. It was his own fault. He had misjudged Will because he had seen Bill in the whelp, he hadn't imagined father and son being so little alike. On the other hand no one could be compared with Bill. None of these thoughts were showing in Jack's face though, he had learned to hide his feelings.

"At least I know now where me hat and pistol are- though I really don't know how they got from Bahia to Port Royal," he said casually.

"Bahia?"

"Aye, that's where I lost them a couple of months ago."

"Or they were stolen," Bill interjected thoughtfully, leaving that statement up in the air before suddenly facing the Commodore as if a thought had struck him. "When did ye say Swann was killed?"

"I didn't mention that yet but he died about three months ago, on the 10th of July."

Jack grinned triumphantly. "See, I'm innocent. I couldn't have killed Governor Swann because at that time I was in Lima. Pretty cathedral, many ecclesiastical riches- should we go back there and take the bishop hostage so that he could tell yer son I stole his ring when good ol' Weatherby was murdered?"

"I don't have a son anymore." Bill stated with a low but firm voice that indicated he really meant it. Jack was shocked, he had never wanted things to come to this point of no return and he shot his friend a pleading glance to think it over again, but Bill shook his head. "No, Jack, ye won't make me change me mind. I may have failed as a father so let me at least not fail as a friend. We'll find out who's trying to pin this murder on ye, and why."

"So you think it was a frame?" Norrington asked although that thought had already come to his mind before. Nevertheless, _innocent_ was definitely not a word to describe Captain Jack Sparrow; he might not be guilty of having killed Governor Swann but he was anything but innocent. James rubbed his temples, still having hard to swallow on the fact that it had obviously been Jack who had stolen the treasure of Lima. Of course he had heard of that; the Spaniards tried to hush up things but rumours did spread nevertheless. Since he held not much love for the Spaniards he felt tempted to congratulate Sparrow for his clever raid- after all he knew about it that sounded like a typical Jack Sparrow deed (unlike killing old men in their sleep)- and he knew Catherine would have laughed with delight about it. _Oh Cath…_ On the other hand he still was a Royal Navy officer and England was not at war with Spain at the moment, so he should condemn the deed.

"I'm almost sure." Bill retorted given that were enough people Jack had tricked, cheated, offended and outmanoeuvred throughout the years- including other pirates, rich merchant, privateers, officials of the East India Trading Company and Royal Navy officers- so it was more than likely one of them bore a grudge against Jack. He was very well aware of this side of Jack's character, knowing that he would always be selfish to the extreme except when it came to the very few people he actually cared for… his thoughts were interrupted by Norrington, who had spotted a familiar face.

"Oh, isn't that your… um,_ wife? companion?_… Jack?"

Bill and Jack turned around simultaneously. It was indeed Rowan who had just entered the tavern, resolutely pushing aside some obtrusive blokes as she made her way to the bar. She ordered a glass of rum, and gulped it down before scanning her surroundings. It was then she noticed the two pirates. Slowly she walked up to their table.

"Well, well, if that isn't the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. Pleased to meet ye," Rowan sat down on the empty chair opposite of Bill, giving him a warm smile, "and ye, of course, Bootstrap Bill." She slid her empty glass across the table. "Any chance of getting a refill?"

Jack hurried to pour her some rum while he tried to ignore the fact that she had smiled at Bill but not at him. "Nice to see ye luv, ye look as beautiful as ever. How's life?"

"Fine. Absolutely perfect. Had some very successful raids recently."

"Glad to hear that. So did we…"

Bill didn't believe his ears; he didn't know what he had expected their first meeting after two years would be like but he definitely hadn't expected them to behave like two strangers meeting for the first time, engaging in polite, piratical small talk. Under the table he kicked Jack's shrine.

Jack flinched, shooting his friend a cross look. "What?"

Bill rolled his eyes when it dawned upon him that it was unlikely they'd change their estranged attitude towards each other with him and Norrington watching them; it was better to leave them alone for a while. So he got up, addressing the Commodore, "May I have a word with ye in private, James?"

For the first time Rowan noticed of the third man at the table and, taking a closer look at him, she sneered, "James? Commodore James Norrington? Ye really look like a scarecrow tonight."

"Why, thank you very much Milady Captain. I would feel much obliged to return that compliment but unfortunately Mr Turner needs my advice, so please be so kind to excuse me now." James retorted, sketching a bow as he rose to join Bill. They were just out of hearing range when he arched a quizzical brow at the pirate. "What is wrong between them?"

"That's none of yer concern, savvy?" Bill said with a cool calmness he didn't feel. Instead he was worried. Rowan didn't look good at all and saying she was fine, even perfect, was probably the overstatement of the year. She definitely wasn't- there were lines in her face and dark rings under her eyes that proved her wrong. It was also strange to see her wearing a low-cut dress tonight.

"Well then, Mr Turner…"

"It's Bill, simply Bill- there's no need to be formal."

"As you please, Bill." James nodded agreeing and he fell silent for a while before he finally asked what had been on his mind ever since he had met him today. "So you really left your son for Jack?"

"No, I left a stranger for a friend."

"Oh"

"Call it weakness or whatsoever but I'm not gonna prostitute myself to fit into the hypocritical society my son is so fond of. Mayhap Jack has spoiled me for that kinda life- but well, at least he cares about **who** I am and not what he wants me to be, unlike Will… Anyway, it wasn't my prodigious son I wanted to talk about but that report from London ye mentioned. There's something wrong with it, I just don't know what… I can't seem to get my finger on it…"

"I suppose it's not only the fact that your friend is wrongly accused of murder?"

Bill shook his head and cast his glance at Jack and Rowan to see how they were doing. Apparently not very well. She was aloof, hiding her emotions while Jack tried to cover them with fluttering gestures. He was boasting because he didn't know what to say whereas Rowan didn't seem to want to talk at all; it was a totally uneasy, awkward situation. Then Rowan finished another drink and made a move to leave. "I gotta go now, ta."

Jack stopped prattling, suddenly at a complete loss of words; he just stared at her. He didn't want her to go but was uncertain how to stop her. Jumping to his feet he blocked her way, hands nervously wagging as if they only waited to underline the words that never came out of his mouth. It was one of the very rare moments Captain Jack Sparrow seemed insecure.

"Damned, Jack, swallow yer pride." Bill whispered as he swore to himself to knock them out and lock them in anywhere if they didn't get their act together soon. He was a patient man but there would be no living with Jack after realizing he'd lost Rowan again because of his own folly.

Fortunately Bill didn't have to take any drastic measures; Jack got a grip on himself and really swallowed his pride.

"Stay," he begged in a dark, low voice. It was only one word but he said so much more with that than with all the prattling before. One word that expressed all his emotions, his longings, his desire, even his hurting and loneliness, and it rendered him vulnerable.

Rowan backed one step away from him, unsure how to react.

"Just one more night, for good ol' time's sake."

She considered his words, already lulled in by his voice. So she shrugged, agreeing. "Why not…"

Jack grinned slyly, almost triumphantly, not doubting at all that after one night she wouldn't want to leave him. There was a lot they'd have to talk over but first things first, talking could wait until they were more familiar with each other again. He grabbed her, taking her by surprise as he flung her crashing against his chest; his greedy mouth searching hers for a hard kiss. For a moment she struggled, reluctant to give in and yield so easily. She bit his lip but that wouldn't stop him and besides, she didn't even want him to stop. It wasn't a sweet kiss, it was raw, full of hungry passion and insatiable lust as if he was trying to devour her with his mouth, ravage her with his lips, explore her with his tongue, taste all of her at once. He could feel himself drowning in this kiss like a shipwrecked man and his need for her was so urgent it almost hurt. The soft rustling of silk drove him almost mad, he wanted to tear down that dress and take her here and now but he restrained himself, wishing for a bit more privacy. He broke the kiss only to ask breathlessly, "My ship or yours?"

"Yours."

Her warm breath against his skin was maddening, he just had to kiss her again, swallowing her little moans of pleasure. Not breaking their kiss they staggered and stumbled toward the door.

James took a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed away the sweat from his face. He had tried not to watch Jack and Rowan too obviously but everybody in the tavern had stared at them and well, that kiss had been extremely hot. He cleared his throat. "Hm, I guess moderation is not in Captain Sparrow's vocabulary, he lives everything up to the extreme."

"Ye have no idea, James," Bill agreed with a sigh; he would have hated having to knock them out and beat some sense into them, nevertheless he would have done so. It wouldn't have helped to solve their problems just like the kiss didn't but at least that was a step in the right direction.

"Do you care to share another drink with me?"

"Why, since ye're not on duty tonight- sure." He definitely did not want to return to the Pearl now and besides there was still something odd about this report from London that he had to find out, so he waited for Norrington ordering another round before picking up that topic again. "Once more, who wrote a report to London filling them in about Governor Swann's death and accusing Jack of murdering him?"

"The new Gov" James didn't finish his sentence, frowning he glanced at Bill, suddenly getting what the pirate had been about earlier when stating that there was something wrong with this report and indeed there was.

"Alright, let's think things over logically. How long would it take to inform the officials in London of Swann's death, find a substitute for him, have the new Governor write a report about the events in Port Royal, send that report to London and from there to ye in Madras?"

"Well, the post would take as long as a fast ship could sail and," James smiled wryly, "I know what you are about, Bill. It is a matter of time and given how slow the wheels of bureaucracy are turning it is night impossible the officials in London could have found a proper replacement for Governor Swann in less than three months- unless, of course, **he **had asked for replacement beforehand."

Bill shook his head. "I doubt that. Damned, I lived with him under the same roof for quite a while and the last time I saw him alive he was cheerfully celebrating his birthday. It definitely wasn't a farewell party. He was popular in Port Royal and he liked being there."

"I know. He always said the Caribbean climate was more beneficial to his health than the weather in England, so I also doubt his request for replacement. Mayhap London wanted him to retire. After all, the new Governor arrived two days after Swann's regrettable demise."

"I can't help it but that sounds too coincidental to not be part of a bigger plan, maybe even a conspiracy…"

"Now isn't that a bit far-fetched, Bill? I do understand your loyalty towards Jack Sparrow, yet it might be that your unfaltering loyalty makes you suspect a conspiracy against your friend when there is none but merely a few loose ends and unanswered questions. Why should a man like Lord Beaufort plan"

"Beaufort? Charles Beaufort?" Bill cut him off with a sharp yelp and he went deadly pale when the Commodore nodded.

"You know him?" James asked surprised.

"Aye- but what d'ye know 'bout him?"

"Well, he stems from a very respected family of old English peerage although his career wasn't as even as one might expect. He started off as an agent of the East India Trading Company given that his father had been one of their directors in London. Charles had a promising career in India so it was suggested he'd become president of Bombay, but then his life took an unfortunate turn and he had to return to England. Not much is known about that though, only wild speculations and some untenable rumours. However, he managed to regain his good reputation by proving his courage in several battles fought for the crown and therefore he was knighted… I really don't know what his problems in India were."

"One of his problems was Jack," Bill said casually.

"Why doesn't that surprise me..."

"But Jack's not to blame, not really. It's not his fault that Randy Charly had a weakness for pretty boys, and he obviously had a crush on Jack. Jack knew that and took advantage of it, so he talked Randy Charly into a deal. He promised to be very obliging and willing to please him if he kept that bloody branding iron out of his face, and Randy Charly agreed. Of course Jack cheated him then. He waited for the opportune moment and vanished. I would have loved to see the faces of the men who found Charles Beaufort later, chained to his chair with his pants down. I guess that ended his career."

"And I guess he has every reason to bear a grudge against Jack."

"Ye can't blame Jack for saving his own ass." Bill snapped.

"No," James interjected placatory, "I certainly don't… My, that is so disgusting. You had better warn Jack."

"I will, but not tonight." Bill emptied his glass and looked at the Commodore. "I don't wanna spoil his night with Rowan by telling him that Randy Charly is after him again. Now, if I'm right and Beaufort has really planned this conspiracy, ye should be careful too, James. Mayhap ye shouldn't hurry to the Admiralty…"

"You worry about a naval officer, Bootstrap Bill Turner? Don't look so surprised, of course I have also studied your file. I know that you hold no love for the Royal Navy."

"That's damned right. But that doesn't mean I won't worry about the man ye are, James. Take care of yerself."

-

Jack cursed himself for not having docked the Pearl in the harbour of Madras but in a small bay some endless miles away. To hell with bloody safety reasons if his ship wasn't there when he needed it. So how about a quick shack in a dark alley? No, that didn't seem right. He had waited too long to now be satisfied with what he could get in every port of the world, with any whore… he wanted… oh, he definitely wanted Rowan here and now, but he also wanted it to be perfect. Damned it was so hard to think clearly when her tits were almost popping out of her décolleté and into his face. Why was she wearing such a low-cut dress tonight? Never mind- taste the ripe fruit when it was offered. His mouth devoured every bit of naked flesh she exposed in utter bliss that she still tasted the same, just the way he remembered her to, and the soft, moaning noises she made encouraged him to rethink the option of a quick shack… No, he was Captain Jack Sparrow, he could restrain himself a little bit longer. To the Pearl! But the way was endless, at least two miles. In which direction? How had he gotten here with Bill in the first place? His memory was slightly blurred.

"Yer ship," he breathed, his voice heavy with arousal, "is it closer?"

"I doubt that."

Her warm breath tickled his skin and drove him to claim her mouth for another round of tongues entwining in a mind-blowing kiss. Suddenly, through the hazes of his oversexed senses, he heard the sound of hooves on cobblestones, followed by the rattling of wheels. A carriage! And it really arrived at the opportune moment to take them to the Black Pearl.

Finally a bit more privacy. Rowan smiled wantonly at him as her fingers unbuttoned his pants and he thought he'd explode if she touched him now. He wanted her so badly that it hurt. Apparently she had the same urgent needs because she lifted her skirts and lowered herself upon him. Jack held his breath when his erection parted her nether lips, then he grabbed her hips and filled her with a swift thrust. Damned that was good! Heaven and hell at the same time, a feeling like coming home, and yet extremely thrilling exciting. He could hardly hold himself back much longer but she took over command then, determining the pace. She gave him a hard ride, her head thrown back, her mouth slightly opened in a very sensual way, breathing heavily, moaning with lust; her hair flowing unruly over her shoulders like cascades of red wine. So beautiful, so wonderfully depraved, knowing no inhibition at all. That was his woman.

It ended much too soon. His orgasm struck him like thunder but even when he came he still didn't feel sated, his release was only of a temporarily nature. They weren't finished yet, they had merely started.

The carriage came to a stop. Jack quickly buttoned his pants and opened the door for Rowan, who looked rather dishevelled. She was sweaty, her cheeks glowing, and the state of her dress spoke volumes of their heavy encounter in the carriage. For the first time he noticed she was wearing a belt with a sheathed sword around her waist. Had he really just screwed a woman wearing a sword? However, he'd make a point to strip her of everything as soon as they were aboard the Pearl, in his cabin. He still hadn't tasted her completely and the idea of her trembling and writhing under his touch, whimpering his name, aroused him again.

The coachman raised a surprised brow at them; probably he was only used to drive stiff British noblemen around Madras and hadn't met lecherous pirates before. Jack tossed him a few extra coins. "Thanks mate, had the ride of me life."

Mr Cotton was waiting for him at the beach in order to row him to the Pearl, and he was damned glad it was Cotton and not anyone else- at least that would spare him any stupid comments about his companion. Also, the mute liked Rowan. He greeted her with a smile and a polite bow of the head and saw to it that she made it into the longboat without getting her skirts wet. Then he turned around to shoot Jack a quizzical glance. First Jack didn't know what Cotton was about until he remembered that he'd left the Pearl with Bill, and now he was here without Bill. For an instant he felt guilty for having left his friend without a word, but well, Bill would know where to find him and after all, he hadn't left him in bad company.

"Take us to the Pearl. I have serious matters to discuss with Captain Scarlett," he told Cotton in a casual tone. "Ye may then return to shore and wait for Bill, savvy?"

The old salt nodded in agreement.

It was so good to have Rowan back aboard the Black Pearl, in his cabin, in his bed. Just like in good old times. She looked the same, she tasted the same, the smelled the same, and like then Jack was mesmerized, losing himself in the taste of her skin, the smell of her body. He still knew what it needed to arouse her and took his pride in reliving what he'd been so good at, to see her writhing with lust, taking her over the edge and beyond.

His patience had been wearing extremely thin with all of these layers of clothes between them, ridiculous fabrics that kept him from feeling her hot, naked skin against his hands, so he had used his dagger to free her while she- equally urgently- had helped him to get rid of his clothes. She had smiled as her hands had trailed along the lines of his chest, adoring the firm chords of muscles that ran under his tanned skin. But no matter how much he liked being adored or how good her touch felt, she had had his way with him so it was his turn now. This time, he was in command and he took his time with her. It would always fascinate him to feel her muscles contradicting around him when her climax was welling from deep within her, rendering her trembling and shaking, completely lost. With one last thrust he joined her in ecstasy and his release shook him to the bone. He was totally spent, overwhelmed, overjoyed, and perfectly satisfied.

At least it was perfect until the sensation ebbed and their heavy panting became an even breathing. Then it was back to reality and it stared at them like a ghost from the past lingering in the air, making them feel uneasy, reminding them of months of separation and unspoken words. Though Jack held Rowan in his arms there seemed to be an invisible wall between them that hadn't been there while making love. Now she was almost as distant as when they had met in the tavern, wordlessly turning her back to him.

"Are ye alright luv?"

"Aye," she replied, but it sounded as if she was suppressing a sob.

Jack propped himself up on one elbow and, toying languidly with her hair, tried to look over her shoulder into her face. "Ye're sure ye're alright?"

"No!" Rowan gave him a hard shove and sat up, still having her back turned to him. For the first time Jack noticed a just recently healed gunshot wound in her right shoulder. He reached out his hand to touch it gently.

"Who did that?"

"That doesn't matter," she shrugged indifferently and began searching for her clothes. "I'm a pirate just as ye are; occasionally ye get wounded in a fight…"

"Damned, what are ye doing there?"

"I'm looking for me clothes but as it seems ye did a thorough job in ruining me dress."

"Ye look much better without that dress and besides, ye don't need it anyway. Come back to bed, luv." Jack circled an arm around her waist and pulled her back into his embrace while she struggled to get free again. "Stop that! Why are ye so bitchy? Don't tell me ye didn't like what I did to because I know better. I can still remember ye moaning me name…"

"And ye're still much too full of yerself, **Captain **Sparrow. What d'ye want? Ye asked me for one night for good ol' times sake, which I granted ye for sentimental reasons I almost regret now. Damned, I'm not a whore!"

Jack let go of her immediately, shaking his head in confusion because he didn't get at all what she was about. "Why the sudden anger?"

"Think about it!"

He raised his hands in a defensive gesture because she looked as if she was going to beat it into him and when she didn't he put his palms together, pleading. "Care to elaborate that, luv, because I really don't know what the hell I did wrong to deserve yer resentment, and I thought about us a damned lot during those past twenty-two months."

"I mightily doubt that otherwise ye would have a clue. But, of course, the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow only cares about himself," Rowan sneered.

"Now ye're hurting and I'm still no wiser."

"Damned, ye left me. Ye let me sail away alone and never came looking for me. Out of sight, out of mind. Ye don't give a damn 'bout me. All ye want is a screw. One night"

"Ye bloody bitch!" Jack cut her off, anger boiling up in him as it dawned upon him what she was accusing him of. "May I remind ye that **you** stole yerself away while I was asleep, leaving naught but a letter saying ye need some time on yer own to find yerself again which I understood given the circumstances. Yep, we needed a break. I was willing to grant ye the time ye need. I hated being apart of ye but I accepted yer decision. I trusted ye to come back after sorting out yer things. Ye didn't, so it was **you** who left **me**." He shrugged, "Well, apparently ye fell outta love with me in that self-finding process of yers."

"I didn't… ye got me wrong. Right, after Kalpitiya I needed some time on my own. I had been imprisoned for too long. Then I started missing ye but ye never came for me…"

"That may be 'cause ye asked me not to!" Jack growled. He rummaged through his clothes until he found the letter she had left him and almost pushed it into her face. "Here, I take it ye can read if ye can write, so read it now and tell me which part of _'Don't follow me, don't come looking for me'_ I got wrong. There really isn't that much room for misinterpretation. I merely respected yer decision. I believed that's what ye wanted, being respected."

"Ye still have that letter?" Rowan whispered surprised, avoiding eye-contact. "I… I guess I didn't mean it that way… I thought ye'd come anyway..."

"Now ye behave like some silly, prissy wench who doesn't know what she wants and because ye don't know what ye want ye're blaming me for having thought ye're worth being respected. Think about it, luv. That's absurd. That lacks any logic." Jack felt the urgent desire to throttle her, beat some sense into her but despite the fact that he was a pirate he would never hit a woman. His anger grew even more, mingling with frustration and a strange kind of arousal. He wanted to throw her flat on her back and fuck her until she finally got what she'd done to them with her irrationality, but on the other hand he wasn't even sure if he wanted her back at all. He'd never understand the logic of women. Damned, twenty-two wasted months… and what was worse it felt like another stab in the heart of someone whom he had trusted. He forcefully took her hand and held the finger with their tattoo in front of her eyes. "How 'bout that? Is that another thing ye didn't mean? I really thought ye'd be the woman I wanna spend my life with." Jack turned away from her, deeply hurt but not wanting to show his emotions, and when she placatory touched his shoulder, he shrugged her hand off.

Rowan gathered her torn clothes and made her way to the door when suddenly Jack blocked her way.

"Where d'ye think ye're going, bloody wench? I'm not done with ye yet." He snarled and shoved her back to the bed.

"What d'ye still want of me?"

"I want my lips on yers, my tongue is yer mouth, sucking ye dry. I want my hands cupping yer tits, but most of all I want my cock inside ye, now and forever." _Take what ye can, give nothing back_, he thought, as he vented his frustration on her, taking her hard in the need to punish her, to teach her a lesson not to play with his heart. In the end he felt even more miserable and also guilty for letting himself go that way; it had been wrong. It hadn't been satisfying to use her just like he could use any whore in any port of this world because he wanted more than that. He turned around to her, gently touching her cheek. It almost hurt him physically to see the tears in her eyes. He was such an ass. Nearly inaudible he whispered, "I'm sorry, luv. I won't keep ye against yer will. Feel free to go wherever ye please."

Rowan just cuddled up closer to him, apparently forgiving although she hadn't enjoyed it either. Nevertheless he thought she was going to stay with him when she suddenly said, "I have no place to go."

Jack looked at her with a frown. "What about yer ship, the Jewel?"

"I lost her."

"Ye lost her? How?"

"I don't wanna talk about it now," she touched Jack's face, placing a gentle kiss on his mouth. "Anyway, will ye help me to get her back? I know she's on her way to the Caribbean right now. I merely need passage to get there."

"Ah, someone stole yer ship." Only a man who had had to see someone else sailing away with his ship could understand what that must mean to her, so he was about to agree in helping her. Then his eyes fell on her clothes and the very same moment the scales fell from his eyes. He sat up, irritated. "So that's why ye're wearing a low-cut dress tonight! Ye were trying to barter for a passage to the Caribbean by using those female charms of yers on some unlucky fool."

Rowan didn't even try to cover her intentions. "Well, are ye gonna help me to get to Port Royal or not?"

"I'm no unlucky fool." Jack thought about it and was torn, wondering who had used whom. He remembered her reservation when they had met in the tavern earlier, that she had hesitated to agree to spend a night with him. Had it been calculation that had made her change her mind, knowing that he'd be more obliged to help her after a good screw? Would she have given herself to any guy with a ship just to get her way? If so, he should tell this manipulative bitch to go to hell. She had hurt his feelings, wound his pride- she mustn't be allowed to think she could twist him around her little finger. After all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow. He had a reputation to consider and it had been embarrassing enough that he had actually begged her to stay in the first place. But if he told her to go to hell it was over. Definitely. Forever. Probably they'd never meet again, and even if, his refusal would only increase the wall between them and make it insuperable. He didn't want that. Feelings hurt or not, fact was that he still had feelings for her. So why not help her? She would stay aboard the Pearl for the duration of their voyage to the Caribbean, mayhap love and trust would grow again. At least she would keep his bed warm for a couple of weeks, and that was a good reason for agreeing. In bed things were still alright between them- except for that regrettable last encounter.

"Port Royal, ye said?"

"Aye…"

"Well then, I still happen to have a hat and a pistol in Port Royal."

Bill felt as if someone had kicked him in the guts when Jack told him about their new course. Port Royal of all places! He quickly filled him in with what he had found out while talking to Norrington and warned him of the consequences yet he didn't try to talk his friend out of it; he simply trusted Jack to make the right decision even if their road would be kind of rough. Also, he understood his motives. Surreptitiously he looked from Jack to Rowan, sensing the ill at ease tension between them and spared himself asking any questions.

"What happened to Governor Swann?" Rowan inquired after having picked up that there was apparently a new Governor in Port Royal.

"I killed him, absently, with a pistol I lost in Bahia and while I was sacking Lima."

"Ah," she shot him a puzzled glance. "And who's Randy Charly?"

Jack looked at Bill and when their eyes locked to silently share some memories, Rowan felt locked out.

"He's the new Governor of Port Royal…"

"… and a damned lousy kisser."

Bill rolled his eyes. "He's a dangerous man."

"I know. However, I trust ye, me dearest friend," Jack snaked an arm around Bill's shoulder in an almost hug, leaning on him to emphasise his next words, "to watch me back."

End of part 2

author's note: Thanks to **ellenar** for beta reading, helping out when I- again- can't think of a title.

Thanks to all my readers who are still interested in this story. Reviews are very welcome, they're so inspiring.

There will be a part 3 coming up in the next couple of weeks…

25


	17. Ruinous Reunion

disclaimer: I still don't owe them but I swear I'll treat them better- at least Jack and Bill.

**Part 3- Old Acquaintances and New Threats **

chapter 17- Ruinous Reunion

Home- what a strange word, especially for a man like Marris who didn't even know his proper name. And yet he felt as if he was sailing home now. It wasn't the one he had left behind as a small child, that wild and cold country in the north, where shamans read the future from reindeer bones; he hardly had any memories of that place. However, home had never been a place to him but people, friends, love. They say that home is where the heart is, and that was true. Marris' heart was somewhere on this lush green Caribbean peninsular that had just come into view. Though he had never been there before and it was as unfamiliar to him as the country he stemmed from, it would nevertheless be his home since Anamaria was there, waiting for him.

Marris was nervous and excited at the same time. He had missed his family so much, Ana, his son Fernando, and his little twin daughters he hadn't even seen yet. He was also a bit anxious to meet her family. It was only after their marriage that Ana had told him that he had married into the most influential smuggler's clan of the entire Caribbean, the Garcias. The prospect of having to face her father, Vittorio Garcia, and explain him why he had left his beloved daughter alone with three kids for almost two years was daunting and probably not the most promising start for being welcomed with open arms.

He let out a frustrated sigh. Damned, he definitely hadn't wanted things to turn out like that. He had wanted to stay with Ana and be at her side when she gave birth to his daughters. But everything had gone dreadfully wrong, leaving him torn between his wife and Rowan Scarlett, his captain, childhood friend, sister, part time lover and partner in crime. So he had chosen friendship over love because Anamaria was strong and Rowan had needed him more since Jack Sparrow had left her. At least that's what he had believed. Then he had received a letter from Bootstrap Bill, claiming that **she **had been the one who'd walked out on Jack. According to Rowan's behaviour and all the things that had transpired, there had been no reason to not believe Bill, so he had followed his advice and was hurrying home now. Back to Ana and his kids who needed their father.

Marris raised the telescope he held clutched in his hands and scanned the horizon once again. He saw miles of beaches rimmed with bizarrely formed coconut trees, bent and crippled by the forces of nature but nevertheless beautiful to look at.

"Ah, it's paradise, ain't it, senor?"

The cheerful voice of Captain Mendoza interrupted Marris' thoughts so he turned around and shot him a brief glance. The peninsula they were approaching didn't differ from any other tropical island he had seen in his life and yet the idea of Ana waiting there held the promise of paradise; he had been missing her for too long.

"Wait 'til you see the south coast and our little village there. You'll love it," Mendoza continued. He sounded as amiable as if he were talking to a close friend although he had made a point to avoid any familiarities at the beginning of their voyage from Asia to the Caribbean, since he was merely an employee of the Garcia's smuggling fleet while Marris was one of its owners, due to marriage. However, the pirate hadn't given a damn about ranks.

"Tell me, what's he like, me famous father-in-law?"

"Vittorio Garcia?" The captain of the El Peregino beamed with unconcealed pride because he had known the illustrious smuggler king since he was a little boy. "Oh, he is a great man, senor. He's proud without being arrogant, straightforward and honest. He cares for his folks and truly dotes on his family. There's no better man, senor. I'm sure you will like him."

Marris didn't doubt that but he did wonder whether Ana's father would like him too. After all, as far as he knew Anamaria was Vittorio's darling, so it might not sit too well with him that he had neglected her because of his obligations to Rowan. Misinterpreted obligations that probably had been everything but helpful in the end. He sighed, feeling frustrated. Had he really been so wrong?

Suddenly his eyes narrowed. He had spotted sails on the horizon; sails that looked like a distant tower was approaching them. When it came closer, it began to resemble a ship… not just any ship but the Jewel Star. Marris frowned. During their voyage to the Caribbean he had heard rumours about Rowan Scarlett having allegedly lost her ship under dubious circumstances; it had started in Madagascar. Usually he didn't give a damn about rumours at all but this one, he knew, was true. What appeared to be a recent run of bad luck was actually an unfortunate turn of fate, a change of winds… he gasped when he got aware of a presence lurking in his mind, _warning _him. Santiago!

The bond was still there though the Spaniard had long passed away to the realm of oblivion and yet Marris could hear his voice in his head on certain occasions. He had come to terms with that since he had long grown accustomed with peculiar things happening in his life, starting with a distant relative claiming to be able to read the future from reindeer bones. But that was just a blurred vision he could hardly remember whereas Santiago's voice definitely sounded more real. There was danger ahead.

"Move! Brace the sails!" Marris barked orders, " We gotta reach Samaná before them!"

Mendoza placed a placatory hand on his shoulder. "Madre de Dios, senor, what's gotten into you? Isn't that your ship that's approaching us, the Jewel Star?"

"Aye, it's her- but whoever captains her now is not to be trusted…"

"Beg your pardon, senor, but it's highly unlikely that anyone would dare to threaten an important protégé of the Spanish Crown like Vittorio Garcia. What colours is she flying anyway?"

Marris looked through his telescope again. "Blood-red… that means no survivors." He shot Mendoza a sharp glance. "D'ye still want to discuss the possibility that they won't dare to attack the village or will ye scurry now?"

Meanwhile the Jewel Star had run out her cannons so there was no doubt about her intentions anymore; she was here to attack and destroy the smuggler's haven. Fortunately the El Peregrino was closer to the village so, with a bit of luck, Marris could warn the people ashore.

He didn't know who captained the Jewel now, nor who had sent her. The only thing that mattered was that the ship he had served on for more than a decade had suddenly become a grave threat to his family.

The moment Marris went ashore the first cannon roared. Captain Mendoza wanted to run out the El Pegregrino's guns in order to fight back but there was little chance the smaller ship could harm the Jewel.

"No!" Marris shouted, impatiently gesturing at Mendoza. "Take the Peregrino away! Hide her!"

A cannon ball hit the beach, stirring up fountains of sand. Some children ran away, screaming and crying with horror. The next shots, however, caused more harm since the powder magazine of a smuggler ship moored at the docks was struck. It exploded with an ear-splitting roar and went up in flames, sending pieces of burning wood and glowing ashes in the air. Some sparks fell down on the other ships, setting them afire too. There was already an inferno at the docks before the smugglers of Samaná even had the chance to grasp what was happening.

Marris hoped that Mendoza paid heed to his order as he ran towards the first houses of the village, picking up a crying child on the way. Armed men approached him. He wondered if they really believed they could stop a ship carrying twenty-four cannons with a couple of muskets.

They didn't. Instead they tried to get hold of the man who was a stranger to them, apparently blaming Marris for the attack. After all, the Garcia's were known to be hot-blooded. If Marris hadn't been carrying the child in his arms he would have been dead before being given any chance to explain himself.

A shot rang, cold and sharp. Then the resolute voice of a woman who seemed to be used to giving orders barked, "Let go of him! Immediately!"

Anamaria had been working in her office, absent-mindedly studying some papers, when the call, "Sails ho," had interrupted her thoughts. Immediately she had left the store to take a look which one of her ships was arriving. Words had spread that it was the El Peregrino. Hoping for a letter from her husband she had scanned the horizon when she suddenly had noticed another ship approaching, one with dark sails. Even from a far distance she could make out that it was the Jewel Star and her heart had leapt with joy. Finally! Marris was coming home!

She had gone on search for her kids then because she wanted them to meet their father at the docks. Fernando looked decent enough but the twins had once more dirtied themselves like two little piglets wallowing in mud. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Anamaria had taken them to the well in order to clean them so that their father would not turn on his heels at the sight of them. They were wonderful girls, wild and feisty, but nevertheless cute if not covered with dirt from head to toe.

Elisa had cried protesting when her mother rubbed her face with a wet cloth, claiming that she could do that all on her onesies. Anamaria had let her, once more casting her eyes towards the sea and the approaching ships. Something was wrong. She couldn't get her fingers on what it was exactly, it was just a feeling that the Jewel looked somehow _different _today. Then, Anamaria had noticed the red flag and the run-out cannons. The Jewel Star was not here to pay them a friendly visit. She knew that Rowan Scarlett was everything but her best friend yet she wouldn't go so far to attack Samaná merely because of the animosities between them. Though Rowan was mad, she wasn't that mad. Anamaria wondered what the hell had happened and came to the conclusion that probably neither Rowan nor Marris were aboard the Jewel Star.

"Mamá. Done. We pretty?" Elena babbled cheerfully as she clung to Anamaria's knee, giving her a sweet smile from a face that looked even more smeared than before.

"Aye, my darlings, you look pretty." Anamaria didn't have the heart nor the nerve to tell them otherwise, and besides, she was too consumed with her own worries which didn't include presenting three neat kids to their long absent father anymore. She bent over to ruffle the girls' hair. "Run to your grandma and show her how pretty you are, will you?"

The girls had scampered off in the clumsy way of almost two years old children, leaving Fernando still lingering at his mother's side. He had spotted the dark ship, and he had recognized her, so he was jumping up and down with excitement now.

"Papá! Papá! Daddy's comin' home!"

Then, hell had broken loose. The Jewel's guns had roared, cannon balls had hit the beach, some ships at the docks, and in midst of the following pandemonium of screaming women, crying children and exploding ships, Anamaria had seen a lonely figure with tousled blonde hair running from the docks towards the village, picking up a lost child on his way. Marris! She had made a point to reach him before her brothers could, being very well aware of their damned Spanish pride and the abundance of testosterone seething in the blood of a male Garcia. She knew all too well that- despite their usual hospitality- they would probably kill him first and then ask questions. To them he was just a suspicious intruder having arrived at the wrong time.

Anamaria almost came too late. Raul had already snatched the crying child from Marris' arms, Ramon took a wide swing to give him a hard blow while Ramiro had aimed his musket at him, ready to shoot. But it was Anamaria's shot that rang through the air, stopping them dead in their actions.

"Let go of him! Immediately!" She repeated once more, sounding very determined and at the same time disgusted by the behaviour of her brothers. "Damned, ye bloody, stupid… **men**!"

From Anamaria's mouth the word men sounded like the worst curse she could think of.

"Why? Who is he anyway?" Ramiro replied in a sharp tone, not willing to lower his weapon. Nevertheless he did when Fernando came running, flinging his arms around Marris' neck as if he never wanted to let go of him. That should have answered his question. "So that's the bastard who got you pregnant and left you?"

"Daddy! Daddy! Papá, ye're back!"

"Nando!" Marris had to fight back his tears as he hugged his son, astounded how much he'd grown since he'd seen him last. Then he grabbed Anamaria to give her brief, but very hard and passionate kiss, before he once again became aware of the absurd and yet dangerous circumstances of their reunion. There was no time for any kind of intimacy since the guns of the Jewel were still trying to raze the smuggler's haven to the grounds, and they wouldn't stop until they had succeeded. Given that, the open hostility of Ana's brothers was the lesser evil. All he wanted was to see his family safe. "Where're me girls?"

Anamaria pointed at the big mansion half covered by jungle when suddenly a cannon ball hit that house, bringing down a good part of the roof. Women shrieked. Anamaria went pale with horror. "I sent them to… to their grandma. I… I thought they were safe…"

Marris didn't hear her out but started running towards the house, completely ignoring the brothers of his wife who were hesitating first, not knowing what to do. In the end they decided that giving Anamaria's disloyal husband a good beating for a welcome could wait until a more opportune moment, and that it was about time to fight back the attackers.

Meanwhile, Marris and Anamaria had reached the house that had been struck by another shot. It smelled of smoke and blood. Several dead bodies of women and children were lying on the floor, some of them rendered unrecognisable by the explosion. A curtain in the living room had caught fire; the flames were already spreading to the furniture.

Ana called frantically for the twins. Never before she had felt so helpless, so utterly desperate. No fight had ever shattered her but fearing for her kids almost cracked her. She was so glad to have Marris at her side even though she had wished for a happier reunion. He gave her strength she would have lacked if she'd been on her own now, having to see the maimed bodies of her sisters, nieces, cousins, sisters-in-law. And yet she always breathed an egoistical sigh of relief when they passed another corpse that wasn't that of Elisa or Elena, when she saw no curly, ridiculous blonde heads amongst the dead.

They followed the sound of wailing women and weeping kids to the kitchen in the back of the house that had not been damaged yet although that would merely be a matter of time, given that the rumble of another detonation was shaking the walls of the house. Panic was in the air, together with the first signs of hysteria to break loose. The last thing Marris needed now was a crowd of uncontrollable, hysteric women.

Anamaria cried out with great relief when she spotted the twins snuggled up at Consuelo's heavy bosom, apparently safe and sound. Despite the unfavourable circumstances she took a moment to introduce Marris to them since she had waited for that too long. Finally he was going to meet his daughters.

Although Elena and Elisa were known as little she-devils there was an obvious and instant enchantment on both sides. Acting like one, the two girls reached out their chubby arms for Marris who immediately was head over heels in love with them, and that also won him Consuelo's unwavering affection.

"Ah, mi querida, he's not that bad, that husband of yours," she told Anamaria, lovingly pinching her daughter's cheek.

"I know." Ana watched her three kids clutching to their father, playing with his many jingling bracelets, babbling cheerfully. This was the scene she had always wanted to see and yet they had no time for that now. They were not safe in the kitchen, they had to escape. There were so many questions. "Who is in command of the Jewel? What do they want? Why do they attack us?"

Marris shook his head. "I don't have the slightest idea, luv. I heard rumours that Rowan had lost the Jewel, but that's all I know." He bit his lip. Mayhap she wouldn't have lost her ship if he had stayed at her side so nothing of this would have happened, no attack on Samaná, no people dying. On the other hand he wouldn't be here to stand by his wife in the hour of need. No matter how you looked at it there were too many ifs to make sense. He had to stop mulling things over in order to keep a clear head. The women couldn't stay here, that much was sure.

"Is there any place ye could go and hide?" He asked Consuelo.

"Si. But I don't want to abandon my house, my home."

"Senora Garcia, this house will be in ruins soon enough so there won't be anything to abandon. Ye gotta save yer life now."

"He's right, mamá. So many have already died, we have to see the kids to safety."

"Aye, find a place far away from here where ye can hide. I'll be catching up with ye later."

"Ye're not coming with us?" Anamaria sounded disappointed, like a weak woman fretting that her husband was leaving her alone, and she hated herself for that. She wanted to be strong- she was strong- but she had missed Marris for too long to be separated from him yet again. Of course she understood his reasons, that he just had to see whether he could be of any help in defending the village although there seemed to be little hope. At least he wanted to try and persuade the male Garcias that it made no sense to fight cannons with muskets because that would only get them killed. She would have liked to accompany him and fight at his side if she wasn't a mother of three small kids that needed her. So she kissed him goodbye, only minutes after being reunited with him. It hurt, although Marris promised to be back in a short time.

While Anamaria led the women and children through the backdoor into the jungle behind the mansion, Marris hurried back the way they had come. It was more difficult this time since the smoke had increased and the house was more in ruins than before; the latest hits had been devastating. He stumbled over bricks of collapsed walls that had buried some of the dead underneath, broken pieces of furniture blocked his way. Despite the desolated state this house was in now, he nevertheless could imagine how it must have been like once. The bombardment had not been able to destroy the ghost of happy times, joy and laughter these shattered walls had seen, they still breathed out a certain warmth that had nothing to do with the spreading fire in the former living room. A big hole gaped where the windows and the front door of the mansion had been, giving way to flames setting ablaze a nearby palm tree. The smoke had become more dense now; it stung in Marris' eyes so that he hardly could see anything anymore, and the air was hot, almost too hot to bear. Holding his breath he hastened to get out of the wrecked building when he bumped into someone daft enough to try and get inside. Instinctively he grabbed the arm of said person and dragged him along, away from the mansion.

Gasping for breath he cursed. "Damned, it's suicide to enter a house that's about to collapse in ruins…" A cannon ball came flowing over his head, causing the hair in the nape of his neck to stand on ends. It struck the mansion with a deafening bang, sending up a whirl of splinters, stones and ashes that soon started to fall down on them, proving Marris' words right. There wasn't a house anymore, just a heap of smoking ruins.

"Consuelo"

"Don't worry, she's safe. Ana's leading them through the jungle to a hiding place."

"Ah, El Limon," the elder man nodded, scrutinizing Marris all over. Though the pirate's face was smeared with soot and sweat he nevertheless passed Vittorio Garcia's inspection and was apparently considered worthy enough to be married to his favourite daughter since the patriarch offered him his hand. "Pleased to meet you, son-in-law. As it seems you have introduced yourself by saving my life, and I appreciate men who do the right things at the right time."

Marris felt flattered to have won over Ana's father but he pressed the topic on to more urgent things than being welcomed here. They were still under attack although the cannon fire had ceased now. Instead, armed men left the Jewel, crammed together in longboats and occasionally shooting their guns at the few defenders assembled on the beach, awaiting them with eager determination. The Garcias would not give in without a fight but there was hardly anything left to fight for.

The huts of the fishers had long been destroyed; they had been the first razed to the ground by the Jewel's angry cannon fire. All the stores were in ruins, all the goods kept there in storage were burned, their remains still smouldering. The only thing left worth fighting for was life itself- and honour. It was the bloody, stubborn honour of being a Garcia that made the men at the beach standing up against a majority of attackers approaching them. They couldn't win. They weren't trained to fight while the enemy obviously was- actually they acted very much like soldiers even if they were dressed like common pirates.

Marris frowned, wondering about that fact. Who were they? They sailed under a pirate flag and yet they weren't pirates. No pirate would attack a smuggler's haven and burn all the rum. That made them very suspicious. So they might be privateers- working for whom? The Royal Navy couldn't afford to attacked Samaná officially, given that that would only offend the Spanish authorities, which England didn't want to risk. Had they hired and trained some mercenaries for the dirty job? But why? The smugglers were hardly to be considered a serious threat to the British trade. Who would want to see this place completely destroyed? It made no sense. This attack was not only meant to raze a smuggler's nest to the ground, it was more profound, more personal.

Meanwhile the attackers had come ashore, forcing the hot-blooded Garcias to retreat. Nevertheless they were still determined to protect their home even if there wasn't much left to call a home. They had lost everything except for their lives but that would merely be a matter of time. There was nothing that Marris could do. He was not in the position to convince them that sometimes it was wiser to flee than to fight.

"Call them back. They don't stand a chance," he yelled at Vittorio Garcia, the only one to whom they would listen.

"I know," the Spaniard hissed, well aware of that fact. He was no fool; he knew they couldn't win and he didn't want having to bury all of his sons. Raul had already been killed. Vittorio shouted something in Spanish that sounded like an order to retreat but he had to repeat that a couple of times due to the noise of the battle.

Suddenly, the fighting ceased for a minute. A woman advanced in pregnancy came walking along the beach, staring at the dark ship in the harbour. Then she addressed one of the what seemed to be pirates.

"Excuse me, Sir, is this boat the Black Pearl? Where is Captain Sparrow? You know, he did that to me," she pointed at her fully rounded belly, "and now he has to marry me."

The pirate gave her a puzzled glance that soon turned into an evil grin. One of Vittorio's grandsons, a young man called Pedro, hurried to protect Rose Hawkins but was shot dead before he could reach her. The fighting continued, and this time Marris and his father-in-law were right in the midst of it, trying to save a young, pregnant woman that Marris didn't even know. If he had known her he wouldn't have lifted a finger for her at all. But then he just believed that no pregnant lass belonged on a battlefield.

Two guys were threatening Rosie now, one of them had grabbed her and wanted to drag her along to the longboats like a prized booty. She let him- apparently she thought he would take her to Captain Sparrow so she could finally get married to him. Of course she was wrong, she just didn't get that. Instead, the silly git kicked out at Marris believing he was begrudging her the opportunity to become Mrs Sparrow when in fact he merely wanted to spare her an uncertain fate in the hands of ruthless villains. Then, things got out of control; everything happened very quickly and went absolutely wrong. The bloke who had held Rosie let go of her in order to attack Marris who managed to parry his blow. Their swords locked. While Marris wondered where he had seen the vaguely familiar face of his opponent before, the other guy overreacted when Rosie tried to get away from the clashing swords. Unfortunately he couldn't think of any better way to stop her than to run her through with his blade. She stared at him in disbelief.

"My child…"

Rose Hawkins died with the knowledge that she would never become Mrs Captain Sparrow. Nobody mourned her death but Marris was so shocked about this unnecessary, cruel killing that he almost dropped his sword. Fortunately his opponent wasn't all too pleased with the deed of his comrade either, actually he even rebuked him sharply but the words he said didn't make much sense to Marris, at least not at this moment.

One of the Garcias gave him a good shaking, shouting something in Spanish that he didn't understand. However, it sounded like 'run', so running he did. They headed for the jungle and the attackers followed them hard on their heels, but then they lost track of them in the dense green jungle of Samaná.

Marris was gasping for breath. Though he had considered himself being a healthy man in a good condition he was nevertheless a sailor and therefore not used to run uphill through the jungle. Still panting heavily he took a look around. They were on top of a hill overlooking the Bahía de Samaná and the remains of what had once been a prosperous smuggler's village. Now a dark cloud of smoke was hanging gloomily over its burned ruins, proclaiming calamity and rendering the former beauty of this place meaningless. It was so hard to believe that the Jewel Star had been the bringer of all that death and devastation he had had to witness; he would never be able to look at her again and not remember this dreadful day. Too many people had died today but for what reason? Marris hadn't managed to figure that out yet- perhaps he never would, given that he'd never grasp what made men kill innocent women and kids without even blinking an eye. Most of all he'd like to track down the ones responsible for this horrible deed in order to find out where they had come from and who had sent them. Alas, he couldn't. Anamaria and his kids needed him now, and probably his father-in-law too. He glanced at Vittorio Garcia and noticed that the patriarch tried to hide the tears in his eyes while casting a last brief look at what once had been his home. It was hard to fathom the true amount of his loss. How could you go on after all that you've lived for had been viciously destroyed, dearly beloved ones murdered? After all, he had lost two sons today, let alone the vast number of grandsons or sons-in-law. Other men would have broken down but not Vittorio. Instead of despairing he pressured to walk on, heading for a place called _El Limon_.

The way was long and arduous since it led through the hilly hinterland of Samaná, through dense green jungle filled with noises of nocturnal animals after the sun went down. Frogs were croaking, cicadas cheeping their monotone concert. No one spoke a word. Then, after hours of walking, Marris heard the faint sound of splashing water that turned into the loud roaring of a waterfall when the small group of survivors approached it. There, at its feet, the women and children of the Garcia clan had gathered.

Marris was relieved to see Ana and his kids well but their reunion was overshadowed with grief. Women had lost their husbands, men their wives, and almost every family had to mourn the loss of at least one child. Nothing would ever be like it had been before. The once so strong and mighty Garcia clan had been decimated to less than two dozen despairing, disillusioned survivors.

Vittorio Garcia, however, was not a man who gave up that easily. Though he had lost more than anyone else he nevertheless managed to act like the strong leader everybody needed him to be. He spoke a few comforting words but in the same breath he spoke about revenge; the murderers of his family should not go unpunished. After all, he still did have friends in the most exclusive political circles of Santo Domingo.

"Rest now," he told his family, "the march to Santo Domingo will be a hard one."

"We don't have to walk." Marris offered. "When the Jewel started firing her cannons I told Captain Mendoza to hide the El Peregrino and as far as I could see from that hill she was still undamaged."

Vittorio gave him a glance that showed respect. "God bless your wise foresight, son. I never doubted that Anamaria would make a good choice in finding herself a husband."

"Si," Consuelo agreed, "though it's a pity he isn't a decent Español."

Marris thought about Ana's hot-blooded, proud and stubborn Spanish brothers who had died and was quite glad that he wasn't a Spaniard. That reminded him of the pregnant lass at the beach who obviously wasn't Spanish either so he asked Ana about her.

The story she told him sounded so hair-raising implausible that Marris immediately felt very bitter towards Rose Hawkins. There wasn't even the lightest shadow of a doubt that Jack Sparrow had definitely **not **raped her. Jack wouldn't do that. Never. He knew him well enough to underline that. Fortunately none of the Garcias had believed her either and yet men had died, wasted their lives to protect this lying slut and the bastard she had been carrying. Even if it had been Jack's child it was for the better that it never saw the light of day because that would have only complicated the already complicated enough relationship of Jack and Rowan.

-

Port Royal, three days later 

The governor looked up from his desk when a dark clad man darted into his office through a secret door and knelt down in front of his feet.

"Ah, you are back. Did you succeed?"

The man bent his head in an obsequious gesture. "I must humbly beg your forgiveness, Mylord, but we only succeeded partially. Unfortunately the target was killed by one of my men- stupid blighters they are, all of them…"

"Sh, hush now." Absent-mindedly the governor patted the head of the man in front of him. "What about the village?"

"It is razed to the ground, just like you ordered, Mylord. We eliminated most of its inhabitants yet some of the smuggler pack managed to escape into the jungle; we lost their tracks there."

"Never mind. Actually it is quite good that some of them survived because they will tell stories and spread rumours. He will hear them and that will teach him to never hide in a smuggler's nest again. Perhaps they will even bear a grudge against him… ah, the possibilities… I like that. The world is getting smaller for him. It's a pity about the girl though. She could have been a great witness in a trial- but we can do without her. She wasn't that significant for my plan anyway. You did well, my dear."

"Why, thank you, Mylord." The man flashed him a humbled smiled, apparently feeling flattered by his praise. "Is there anything else I could do for you, Mylord?"

The governor looked down at the man kneeling at his feet and thought of all the pleasant things he could do to him right now, if there hadn't been a knock at the door.

"Governor? May I enter?"

"Oh no, not Lieutenant Groves," he sighed enervated. "He's so annoying, too full of conscience. I really should have chosen someone else for this mission, someone more ruthless. Anyway," the governor stroke the cheek of the man before him with affection, "scurry to my quarters, dear. I'll be with you as soon as I have dealt with him."

Only after the man had vanished as silently and unseen as he had appeared, did the governor granted Lieutenant Groves the permission to enter his office. He listened to the Navy officer's half-hearted formulated protests considering the raid of Samaná with little enthusiasm before he cut him off, obviously bored.

"You know, Lieutenant Groves, that is exactly the reason why you are merely a lieutenant of the Royal Navy and haven't been promoted yet."

"Governor Beaufort, I must protest. When I joined the Navy I thought my main task would be to serve others and protect the interests of the English Crown- not to slay innocent women and children."

"They were smugglers, all of them, and since they were smugglers they were indeed in conflict with the interests of the English Crown. You might not understand that but you did right. And now please spare me any further whining because I am a busy man, therefore I do have more important things to deal with than the pangs of conscience of a third-classed Navy officer who has forgotten his place. Consider yourself being dismissed, Lieutenant Groves. You know where the door is, don't you?"

While Governor Beaufort headed for his private chambers as soon as the Navy officer had left his office, Lieutenant Groves leaned against the outside wall, breathing heavily with frustration. He knew that he probably was too soft to make a career in the Royal Navy but on the other hand he was perfectly capable of telling wrong from right, and the raid he just had participated in had not definitely not been right. Good old Governor Swan would never have sent him on such a mission, neither would have Commodore Norrington. He sighed, missing them and wondering what he should do now to clear his conscience.


	18. Unresolved Dilemmas

**Author's note**: I'm quite consumed with work and real life at the moment so please forgive me if it takes longer than usual before I update. I won't neglect this story since I just have to write it- DMC was inspiring in a very strange way although this is still based on the first movie and my own imagination.

Thanks to all my readers, especially to those who took their time to leave a review- I love feedback. There's nothing more encouraging to keep me writing after a long day at work.

I hope you enjoy this chapter though it's probably not one of my best.

Last but not least, many thanks to **ellennar **for beta reading, correcting my many mistakes, and helping me to find titles for the chapters because I really suck at this. Without you I would have given up a long time ago.

**disclaimer: **I still don't owe them but I swear I'll treat them better- at least Jack and Bill.

18- Unresolved Dilemmas

Atlantic Ocean, aboard the Black Pearl 

Ever since Jack Sparrow and Rowan Scarlett had met again in Madras their relationship was complicated, burdened with all the things that had gone wrong between them in the past and influenced by the different expectations they had. Rowan wanted her ship back while Jack wanted Rowan back, and not only physically. Incapable of solving the problems they had, they tried to avoid each other's company most of the time but the Black Pearl was too small for the egos of two pirate captains who couldn't decide whether they loved or hated each other. Even if Jack was at the helm and Rowan far away at the bow, staring at the foaming spray for hours, the tension was up in the air for everyone aboard to notice. And these were the better days, when a steady wind filled the sails, allowing the Pearl to make good speed on her way to the Caribbean. It was worse during a calm since the lack of wind didn't calm the mood aboard but merely increased the tension until it became nearly unbearable.

For once, Jack wasn't the one to blame. It was Rowan's fault because of her refusal to talk about the things that had happened to her during the two years of their separation, and though Jack tried not to press on that topic, he nevertheless wanted to know what had made her lose the Jewel Star if she wanted him to help her get back her ship. This usually led to heated discussions and ended with her leaving the cabin, slamming the door. For the rest of the day she would be sitting at the bow then, staring into the distance, as silent and motionless as a second figurehead, only her flashy red hair blowing in the wind. Meanwhile, Jack would be taking over the helm, barking orders at his crew as if nothing had happened. After all, he wasn't a lovesick fool- but he wasn't insensitive either, so every day it got a little bit harder for him.

At night, however, they seemed to forget about their differences. Clinging to what they used to have once, without admitting its importance and thus constantly fooling each other, they vented all their frustration on having passionately angry sex. It was merely an excuse for real intimacy since the next morning would prove nothing had changed between them. Rowan would still be avoiding Jack's questions, keeping secrets from him. In the end she'd be running away again, slamming the door in his face. It was just a matter of time how long the poor door would last, but- more important- how long would Jack's patience last? His trust in her was already wearing thinner with each day.

Fortunately, the crew didn't know. They sensed trouble but at least Rowan had made a point to not shout at him in front of them so they would not question his position as captain of the Black Pearl. Of course that had mainly been for her own benefit since she needed them to take her to the Caribbean where she allegedly would find her ship, the Jewel Star. And though Jack told himself he didn't mind being used for her purposes as long as she kept his bed warm at night, his first mate, Joshamee Gibbs, never got tired of repeating that a woman aboard only meant trouble, and a red-head even doubled that.

"Everyone's thinking it, I'm just saying it," Gibbs uttered once more when he saw Rowan leaving the captain's cabin, slamming the door shut. "It's…"

"Oh, no, not again." Bill cut him off enervated. "I'm sick 'n tired of hearin' it."

But then again Gibbs was right about the frightful bad luck given that they were heading towards an ill-fated destination just because Rowan had urged Jack to go on a hunt for her ship. Bill didn't like it but Jack knew of the risks that were awaiting him in Port Royal and thought he could handle them. Well, maybe he could- if he'd take a break. Bill suddenly noticed how tired his friend looked; he was shuffling more than prancing and he touched the Pearl's wheel with little enthusiasm only to scamper off to the crow's nest just a moment later. He followed him.

Jack smiled wryly when he saw Bill climbing up the shrouds and made room for him on the narrow platform without saying a word; he wasn't in the mood to talk but he didn't mind company. They sat together in perfect silence for a while, feeling the wind on their faces, staring at the horizon. No matter which direction they looked, all they could see was the endless sea.

"It's been a long time since we sat here first, that day ye woke me to show me the sunrise. Ye made me love the sea then." Bill said quietly.

"I remember. But ye're not here to talk 'bout good ol' times, are ye?" Jack sighed, sounding weary.

He had every right to sound weary, Bill thought, given that the past few weeks had been quite hard for everyone aboard and especially for the captain of the Black Pearl. He had been plotting the course from Madras to the Caribbean, spending most of his waking hours at the helm, steering his ship through even the most unfavourable weather conditions. That alone would have been exhausting enough but he had also spent himself at night when he should have rested instead of struggling with Rowan. There was no use reminding Jack that he wasn't getting any younger since that was probably the last thing Captain Jack Sparrow wanted to hear now. But when Bill cast his friend a sidelong glance he was slightly shocked just how worn out he looked, worn out and utterly frustrated. It was as if up here in the crow's nest he had dropped the mask he had been wearing on deck all the time in order to fool his crew. He couldn't fool Bill though; they knew each other for too long. Bill noticed the dark hollows under his eyes, the pale complexion of his skin.

"You look horrible, mate. I should knock ye out and tuck ye into bed."

"Though I'm feeling deeply flattered I must politely reject yer offer. I'm not in the mood to get laid."

Bill rolled his eyes. "Jack, ye need a rest."

"Aye, that's what I was saying." Jack raised an ambiguous brow at his friend before he glanced to the place where Rowan was sitting at the bow, her red hair blowing in the wind.

Bill followed his glance. "It's not easy at the moment, hm?"

"Ye have no idea." Jack replied grimly. The sight of her was like a pang in his heart and yet it seemed to him as if the big experiment called love had failed. Mayhap it was for the better since love and pirates simply didn't fit together.

"Don't give up on her."

"Why not?"

"'Cause ye're Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Oh, aye, that's definitely a damned good reason."

"Ne'ertheless, I'm worried, Jack. We're sailing to Port Royal, the last place on earth where I want ye to be given that the bastard Charles Beaufort is Governor there now; a man who has planned a large-scale conspiracy against ye and who didn't even scruple to arrange ol' Weatherby Swann's death just to discredit ye. He wants to see ye dead and yet ye're about to run straight to him like a fly enthralled by a spider's web..."

"I'm absolutely not running straight to Randy Charly," Jack cut him short, shuddering involuntarily at the thought of Beaufort, "I'm merely helping Rowan to get back her ship which brings us once again to the significant question why she lost it in the first place- unfortunately she thinks the question is more tiresome than significant." He shrugged and looked at Bill. "However, d'ye really believe Randy Charly thought up all this just because I rejected him then? I mean, he obviously had a crush on me- which is as frightening as it's understandable."

"Ah, the curse of being a simply irresistible scallywag." Bill chuckled, shaking his head. "No, I believe he still bears a grudge against ye 'cause ye ruined his promising career in the East India Trading Company. Don't underestimate him, Jack. He's dangerous…"

_And Beaufort is probably not the only threat waiting for Jack in Port Royal_, Bill mused, thinking about his son. He didn't know how far Will would go if he saw the pirate as a menace to his family, but he prepared himself for having to make a decision if the worst should happen. Actually he already had made that decision a long time ago.

"Bloody profit greedy git." Jack muttered under his breath.

"They're the worst." Bill sighed. "Ye'll need all yer wits so please do me a favour and take a break. Go to bed."

Though that sounded tempting since he really was damned tired, Jack shook his head. "I can't afford sleeping the day away. I'm the captain of this ship, I have to take over the helm."

"Ah, don't be such an idiot. Ye've got a fairly able-bodied crew that can do without ye for a while and besides, why don't ye let Rowan take over the helm? After all, she's a good sailor, a pirate captain…"

"A **_shipless _**pirate captain." Jack emphasised, leaving Bill stunned.

"Oh no, please don't say that. Don't tell me ye actually believe she would do that."

"Wouldn't she? Think about it- she desperately wants her ship back but she needs a ship to get there and I happen to have a ship."

"No. Jack, ye're tired and frustrated, and Rowan **is** keeping secrets from ye, but she's not a manipulative bitch who'd stop at nothing. She would not- ever- betray someone she cares for and she does still care for ye; she just has a peculiar way of not showing it. Give her a chance and ye might be pleasantly surprised."

"Hm," he mulled it over but wasn't convinced, "I'm not sure if I can still trust her…"

"Well, since ye don't trust anyone anyway," Bill ignored the hurt glance his friend shot him, "just imagine Rowan trying to talk Gibbs into a mutiny."

Though Jack had a very active imagination he absolutely couldn't picture this. "Aye," he agreed, chuckling, "he really isn't very fond of her."

That was probably the understatement of the year.

"Besides, even if ye don't trust her, ye're forgetting one very important thing, Jack."

"I know, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow." Saying this, he didn't sound quite as cocksure as he usually did, instead he wondered what being Captain Jack Sparrow was good for with regard to Rowan who seemed to be rather unimpressed by that fact. However, Bill had something else in mind.

He elbowed Jack gently. "I'm talking 'bout the Pearl."

"The Pearl? What Pearl? My Pearl?"

"Aye, yer Pearl. She's not just any ship; she's a special lady…"

"I know."

"Then ye should also know that she won't let ye down. She won't let Rowan do anything stupid- even though I seriously doubt that she would ever try to commit a mutiny just to get her ship back."

"She didn't stop Barbossa," Jack whispered.

Bill put a hand over that of his friend to give him a reassuring squeeze. He didn't want to talk about the mutiny again, they were over and done with that, and their friendship had been restored. Now, it was about Rowan; it was his opportunity to clear up some things, because he didn't want their love to be lost, buried under the weight of mistrust and misunderstandings. He cleared his throat. "Don't blame her. The difference between Rowan and Barbossa is that she can hear her while he couldn't. The Pearl and the Jewel are very similar, so let Rowan take over the helm and **she** will tell her everything ye have no words for- I daresay this might even improve yer relationship. Also, I believe that some work will do her good because, like I mentioned before, she's a pirate, a sailor at heart and therefore not used to being just a passenger aboard. Mayhap being useful again will even soften her claws so that ye won't look like ye're trying to bed a tiger anymore."

Surreptitiously, Jack turned up the collar of his coat to hide the treacherous marks his nightly encounters with Rowan had left on his skin, although he knew that Bill had long seen them. He thought about his words and figured he was most likely right; nevertheless he arched a brow at his friend. "What happened to the clumsy deckhand who used to stumble over his own bootstraps? Ye became a wise man, my dear William Turner. We should have a drink on that."

Bill agreed although getting drunk was absolutely not what he had in mind for Jack. So when they were in his cabin later he made a point to place a cup of tea in front of him instead of the desired rum.

Jack sniffed at the cup without hiding his disgust. "What's that?"

"A special blend of herbs that'll help ye to relax. Drink, it'll do ye good."

"Ye do recognise that ye're once more showing off being the ship's doc? Ye cheating bastard, ye lured me here with the promise of rum but all I get is a bloody cup of tea. Damned, I really shouldn't have hired ye. Ye're shamelessly abusing my affection."

"Yep," Bill admitted frankly. "It was easier than having to knock ye out and carry ye all the way from the crow's nest. Now drink yer tea- or would ye prefer me singing ye a lullaby?"

"Oh bugger! No. Don't. Stop threatening me. Ye're not an eunuch like yer son, ye don't have a lovely singing voice." Jack snatched the cup from Bill's hands and gulped down its contents before handing it back to him. "There, are ye happy now, ye obnoxiously persistent nag? Don't tell anyone aboard how ye always manage to manipulate me." He turned away, pulling a blanket over his head. "And don't ye dare to fluff me pillows or tuck me in."

"How 'bout a good-night story then?"

Jack threw a pillow at him, laughing silently. "Just leave me alone and let me sleep now; I'm tired."

Bill watched Jack's slack form, he had fallen sleep almost instantly. He helped himself to the rum and raised his glass at his friend.

"Sleep well, mate," he murmured before he gulped down the rum and left the cabin, closing the door behind him quite content with himself. Then he sat down on the dark planks in front of Jack's cabin. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining from a bright blue sky and the air was warm but not hot; a fresh breeze filled the black sails above him. It was the perfect day and the perfect place for meditation- although meditating in front of Jack's door was just an excuse to watch said door in order to keep anybody from disturbing his friends' sleep. So when Rowan popped up later he refused to let her pass and blocked her way, much to her displeasure.

"Sorry, but the captain's busy and doesn't wanna be disturbed."

Rowan tsked indignantly. "I'm certainly not disturbing him. What're ye doing here anyway?"

"I'm meditating."

"Fine, then go on meditating and lemme pass."

"Nope. Come on, Rowan, ye don't wanna spend such a lovely day inside the cabin. Given the chance ye'd rather take over the helm, don't ye?"

The prospect was as tempting as the voyage had been boring so far. She had not been offered to help aboard, not even scrubbing the deck, and knowing the objection of the Pearl's crew towards her she had never asked although she was dying to do something, anything, to keep her from picking another fight with Jack. She didn't want to argue with him but on the other hand she couldn't answer his questions either. Probably she would have been better off staying away from him if only she wouldn't long to be close to him, and yet his proximity was too much for her after two years of separation. As much as she wanted to be with him she wanted to run away from him, run away from a love she actually yearned for. Rowan was well aware that most of the problems between them were caused by her, nevertheless she couldn't change it. She was about to accept Bill's offer, looking forward to do something useful instead of just staring at the sea, when she suddenly realized that it wasn't up to Bill to decide who was to take over the helm. He was neither the Pearl's captain nor the first mate, he was just the ship's doc.

She shot him a frustrated glance and moaned, "Great idea but I doubt Gibbs will let me. He had never been overly fond of me but now he's looking at me as if he wants me to walk the plank- of course that's just because it would be much too dangerous to build up a stake aboard a ship in order to burn the red haired witch. There'd be enough wood around but a spark could blow up the powder magazine."

"Aye, that's Mr Gibbs. He's a superstitious old seadog," Bill chuckled before he turned more serious again, "but don't get him wrong. He's a damned good sailor, a damned good first mate, and- what probably matters most- he's absolutely loyal towards Jack. Just send him over if he's causing any trouble and I'll deal with him, savvy?"

"I mightily doubt ye're in the position to give Gibbs orders."

"No, I'm not, and it's not my intention either. I'm just trying to appeal to everybody's common sense that life aboard is so much more pleasurable without any bitching, don't ye agree?"

"Why don't ye simply mind yer own business?" Rowan snapped as she turned her back on Bill and walked away, heading towards the afterdeck. Watching her leave, he prepared himself for Mr Gibbs to turn up and grumble something about women aboard in general and Rowan Scarlett particularly; he didn't have to wait that long.

Bill Turner and Joshamee Gibbs didn't have much in common except that they both cared about Jack, each in his own special way. Mr Gibbs was the obedient first mate who strictly followed his captain's orders although he was puzzled occasionally, wondering about them most the time, believing Jack to be slightly mad but never questioning him or his position. He adored him somehow, perhaps even saw himself as kind of a fatherly figure who wanted to protect Jack from his own madness. Of course he always failed since he had never been able to figure him out but that didn't diminish his affection.

That's why Bill liked Mr Gibbs, because he was a loyal man. His superstition and deep mistrust against anything unusual was harder to deal with especially since Gibbs regarded him as a strange man with peculiar habits and therefore suspicious. They were much too different to ever become friends but they had come to accept each other for Jack's sake.

Of course Bill didn't share Gibbs' worries concerning Rowan since he knew her well enough to be damned sure she was neither a witch nor willing to incite a mutiny. A ridiculous idea. Though she did behave like a ruthless, egoistic bitch, who seemed to be using Jack to get back her ship, she wouldn't go too far. There was still love hidden behind all the animosity between them, and besides, no one aboard would team up with her against Jack anyway- well, no one except for Cotton's parrot perhaps. And a mutinous macaw wasn't really what he called a threat. Also, she didn't seem to be all too enthusiastic about an affectionately poultry nuzzling her hair so she shooed her only possible ally carelessly away. Bill laughed.

Gibbs shot him a concerned glance and thought that Jack's madness had already rubbed off on Bootstrap if he actually believed Rowan was any good for his captain; in his opinion he was better off without her. But then again he still wasn't able to even basically figure him out given that Captain Jack Sparrow was a hard man to predict for everyone but Bootstrap Bill. He heaved a sigh. There was a special bond between these two he didn't grasp; he gave up without even trying, knowing he would fail anyway.

Jack woke up early in the morning, feeling full of energy. He glanced at Rowan who had come to cuddle herself up to him sometime in the night. She looked cute when she was sleeping so he decided to better let her sleep, knowing that waking her would only lead to trouble and he was slightly fed up with arguing. Why the hell did she not want to talk about the events that had made her lose the Jewel? It couldn't be more stupid than trusting the wrong people and ending up being marooned on a godforsaken spit of land like it had happened to him. Bloody wench. He should have made her queen of her own island instead of letting her talk him into an adventure he wasn't keen on; he certainly wasn't keen on the prospect of meeting Randy Charly again. Was the trouble really worth the pleasure of her sharing his bed? He gave her another glance and felt his heart grow soft. Damned- to hell with love! Who had invented this absolutely unnecessary, sentimental feeling? He was a pirate captain, he needed growing soft like a hole in his head.

With a frustrated growl he rose from bed and left his cabin only to bump straight into Bill who was performing some odd movements on deck.

"Careful, mate. I swear ye'll get slant eyes one day if ye keep on doing all this weird Asian stuff."

"It's called Tai Chi," Bill reminded him laughing, "ye should try it too. It's good for…"

"I definitely won't do anything that makes me look like a dying swan- quite apart from the slant eyes." Jack cut him off, tsking indignantly. But then he flashed his friend a golden smile and pranced to the larboard rail, staring into the distance. "Ah, a beautiful morning. I can almost smell a breath of Caribbean scent in the air. "

"Ye're right, we just passed Antigua a couple of hours ago. In a day or two we should have reached Port Royal, given that the wind…"

"We're not sailing to Port Royal."

"Not? Well, I mean that's great news- but what made ye change yer mind?" Bill quickly followed Jack to the afterdeck, curious to find out what he was up to. "Tell me what that devious mind of yers had thought up now."

Jack took over the helm and slightly changed the course. "We're heading to Tortuga!"

"Tortuga?"

"Aye, Tortuga." Jack replied with a grin.

The crew cheered when they got wind of the altered course since Tortuga was still one of their favourite ports, especially when they had been at sea for weeks and they had money to spend. The prospect of soon being able to enjoy all the pleasures of a shore leave- most of all the pleasurable company ashore- made them work harder, and the mood aboard definitely improved. Everyone was happy except for Rowan who came on deck, pulling a face. Bill sensed trouble in the air.

"What the hell are ye up to now?" She hissed at Jack after having taken two steps at once to reach the afterdeck. "Why Tortuga?"

"Because the crew's gotta be considered, luv."

"The crew?"

"Did ye have Parrot for breakfast or d' ye just don't get the needs of men after a long journey? They worked hard and therefore they deserve a good screw…"

"Oh, ye're such a caring captain!" Rowan snapped sarcastically, but that didn't impress Jack. At least not the tone.

"Aye, that I am," he stated proudly, beating his breast like a very self-satisfied and much too full of himself man.

Rowan, however, begged to differ. "Ye're a bloody bastard and we're only wasting time with this stop at Tortuga. I guess I told ye we're gonna find the Jewel in Port Royal."

"Ye mentioned that, aye. But unless ye don't want to satisfy the needs of me crew to ensure their willingness to risk their lives because of yer boat… um, ship," Jack paused ambiguously to scrutinized her all over before shaking his head, a possessive sparkle in his eyes, "which is very unlikely since I won't let ye do that anyway…"

"Jack!"

"Aye, sweetheart?"

"Damned, ye promised me to sail to Port Royal!"

He thought about it, tugging at his beard. "Well, if I remember it clearly I merely said that I still happen to have a hat and a pistol in Port Royal. Mayhap ye considered that as a promise to get ye there- which it wasn't- although I might feel obliged to help ye getting back yer ship. But since ye're not very helpful in helping me, playing with yer cards so close to yer chest and not giving away needed information, I only have yer word that the Jewel is in Port Royal so yer word is not the one to be trusted. Savvy?"

"No." Rowan blinked at him in utter confusion, then looked from him to Bill. "Did **you** get what he's about? "

Bill nodded. "Sure. Jack just told ye that he doesn't trust ye anymore because ye refuse to tell him why ye lost the Jewel in the first place, therefore we're heading to Tortuga in the hope of getting some background information about who took yer ship away."

Rowan rolled her eyes and ran enervated fingers through her hair; she had hoped that at least Bill would understand her but apparently he had sided with Jack. Why did that surprise her? She had always known that they were friends, she just hadn't known how close they actually were. As it seemed she had missed something significant due to being too consumed with her own problems. She let out a frustrated sigh, addressing Bill since that was probably easier than having to face another confrontation with Jack when in fact she didn't want to argue with him at all. After all, she still loved him, somehow. "I can't tell ye. Believe me, I would if I could- but I can't."

Bill turned to smile at Jack. "Yer lovely woman just agreed that sailing to Tortuga is a wonderful idea."


	19. Uncle Rupert

chapter 19- Uncle Rupert

London 

James Norrington turned up the collar of his coat and buried his hands deeper in his pockets; after having served the Royal Navy in the Caribbean and India he wasn't used to London's climate anymore. It was cold and it was rainy. Heavy clouds hung over the city like fog, fading all colours to different shades of grey, and the air was wet from the constant drizzle that occasionally changed to sleet, biting his face. Somehow the weather reflected his mood.

Ever since the _Sovereign_ had docked in Portsmouth he was mulling over if he had made the right decision and he still wasn't quite sure about it. Nevertheless, apparently he had already made up his mind in the morning when he had chosen to not wear his uniform and wig, the symbols that marked his status of a commodore in the Royal Navy, but to wear plain clothes which concealed his rank. Now he didn't differ from any man that passed him by in London's streets on this dull, rainy afternoon and yet he felt unwell, guilty, dressed up like a man who had something to hide, secretly sneaking through the streets, trying to remain incognito. Never before James had consciously disobeyed an order. He was supposed to report at the Admiralty as soon as he reached London, but Whitehall was not where he was heading to now.

He had considered his decision thoroughly, over and over again, during his voyage from Madras to England, and every time his personal interest had conflicted with his sense of duty when under normal circumstances there wouldn't have been a conflict at all. But these were different times. His rank, his reputation was at stake. This visit could mean the end of his career; mayhap he would even have to face charges with treachery. Why? Just because he had accepted the help of a pirate and allied with him in order to save some poor women from their horrible fate in a madman's harem, thus also making the Palk Straits a safer passage again. Of course this had not gone unnoticed by the Admiralty. The First Lord himself had sent a letter of approval, praising him for this clever move, even indicating the prospect of a promotion. Then, suddenly, all of this didn't seem to matter anymore since said pirate had allegedly killed Governor Swann. So James had been ordered back to London. He had requested it anyway but not to have them make him pay for Jack Sparrow's crimes- as if he had been his accomplice or loaded the pistol. He didn't know what awaited him at the Admiralty but if Bill Turner had been right with his assumption that the murder of Governor Swann was actually part of a conspiracy against Sparrow then he'd better be careful. If Lord Beaufort had really arranged this as kind of a personal vendetta for his pride wounded long time, he must have important friends in high circles, very high circles.

James sighed frustrated as he went on. He had studied Sparrow's file for a long time, he knew how the pirate ticked… well, he was far from ever been able to figure him out but at least he knew that Sparrow would never commit a cold-blooded murder. So far so good. It should be the pirate's problem and not his own. He surely did not want to start a campaign trying to restore Captain Jack Sparrow's reputation.

Instead of heading for Whitehall or his family's elegant town house near Regent's Park, James left the better districts of London and turned into a small alley that lead him towards parts of the town he was unfamiliar with. Whenever he had been to London before he had merely moved in the proper circles and hardly left the ways that were appropriable for a man of his upbringing and rank.

There was a reason why he had come to London, why he had begged for a transfer. Catherine was living here now. His Cath- formerly known as Lady Talbot and wife of the Earl of Shrewsbury. Once, she had been too high above him to even consider a marriage but now, after being divorced from the Earl and accused of adultery just because she had been held captured in the harem of a madman, she- ironically- was too far below him. Life goes in wicked ways, James thought. His family would never accept a divorced woman as his bride and yet it didn't change his feelings for her.

He had to ask for the way once or twice. The people he met looked at him with curiosity, they could tell that he didn't belong here by the way he dressed and spoke. James began to feel a bit uncomfortable as if he was an intruder in a world that wasn't his own. For the first time ever he saw how the less privileged citizens of London lived. It would have shocked, even appalled him if he hadn't been to India; the years he had served there had definitely changed him.

Finally he reached the small cottage where Catherine lived. It looked poor in comparison to the big estate of her family or the castle in which she had lived with her husband but it was hers and was probably more than any other divorced woman owned. Most divorced woman where impoverished, lacking any support. Catherine, however, had been lucky… James shook his head as his thoughts drifted to Jack Sparrow again, remembering the day when the pirate had slipped some gemstones into her hands, a small fortune. He could not have afforded to be so generous; the Royal Navy didn't pay that well and as the second son he wouldn't inherit much, neither title nor land, if his father didn't disinherit him anyway for his scandalous relationship with a divorced woman. He should be grateful to Sparrow for enabling Catherine a halfway decent life and yet it bugged him that it wasn't him who was supporting her. With a sigh he knocked on the door.

James forgot everything that troubled his mind when Catherine opened the door, rendering him speechless for a moment. She looked absolutely stunning. The plain, blue dress she wore matched perfectly the colour of her eyes that were sparkling with undisguised joy as she smiled at him, dimpling her cheeks. The freckles around her nose were paler now since her fair skin wasn't exposed to the tropical sun anymore, but fortunately they were still visible- he had always loved them. Her strawberry-blonde hair was simply plaited given that she didn't have a maid anymore who would arrange it in neat curls, skilfully pinned up. Instead, some unruly whisks of coppery blonde had come loose, framing her pretty face. James liked it better that way; it looked more natural, just like Cath.

She breathed his name, nervously wiping her hands on her apron and obviously not aware that she had long smeared the flour that had been on her hands onto her face. It didn't diminish her beauty but increased it.

There was a moment of awkwardness between them. They were wordlessly staring at each other as if they couldn't believe they were finally together again and yet they didn't know what to do with the situation. What was appropriate? They had never met under circumstances like this before, when all the good manners that had been beaten into them from childhood on didn't seem to matter anymore, not here, not in this place, not between them. Under different circumstances James would have given a courtly bow when meeting a fair lady but he couldn't think of anything more ridiculous to do now, so he waited politely for her to ask him in. Catherine, on the other hand, took his hesitation as a sign of disapproval, fearing he would not want to come in since her house was merely a small hut that didn't correspond to the standards he was used to.

The cottage was small but tidy and clean. It had two rooms of which James could only look into the first one, which was apparently the kitchen. There was an oven with pots and pans hanging above it, a table, two chairs. The furniture looked used as if Catherine had taken it over from the former owners and yet she had managed to make to room comfortable in her own style; candles in plain holders shed a warm light.

Home was not made of marble floors, fine damask tapestries on the walls, or the amount of golden chandeliers, James realized. Home was where the heart is, and his heart was here, with Catherine, in a plain, small cottage that definitely lacked any elegance but smelled deliciously of dried herbs, fresh bread, roasted meat and apples.

"Won't you let me in?" He tried to sound casually, gently mocking her.

"Oh," she blushed and opened the door wide to ask him in before she started to busily buzzing around, chatting nervously, "come in- sorry for being so thoughtlessly. Please, sit down. You must be tired after such a long journey. Are you hungry? Dinner will be ready in a minute. When I got your message that you would be arriving today I hurried to prepare an at least halfway decent dinner. It's nothing special, just a roast… you don't get many fresh vegetables or fruit in London this time of year, it was hard to even get some apples for a pie. Of course there's still the market at Covent Garden where you can get anything, but the prices there are exorbitantly high while the quality of the goods are not, and besides, I didn't have the time to go there anyway; I didn't want to miss your arrival… I don't even know how long you will be staying at all. Probably you have a lot of obligations and appointments now that you're back to London…"

"No, darling," James interrupted her, softly touching her arm to stop her from whatever she was doing, "don't start speculating on how much time we have when you haven't even welcomed me properly."

Catherine gazed at him with a sigh, then she flung her arms around him, leaning her head against his chest. "Oh James, I missed you so much."

He bent his head to softly brush her lips with his but it wasn't enough. Their lips locked in a long kiss, tenderly, almost hesitantly first as if not believing that the love they had found again in India had survived the months of their separation and was still there on this cold and grey London afternoon. The kiss proved that they had never ceased yearning for each other.

"Is that a proper welcome?" Catherine whispered breathlessly when they broke the kiss for a moment to stare amazed into each other's eyes, overwhelmed by emotions.

"Definitely." James chuckled, feeling light-hearted as he hadn't for ages; holding Catherine in his arms was as if all the heavy weight of his troubles seemed to be lifted off his shoulders. He placed a kiss on her nose. "Not the welcome one would expect from a decent lady but nevertheless very much appreciated."

"You forget that I'm not a decent lady anymore." She said, shrugging indifferently. "But I don't mind. I'm happy the way I live now, and I'm happy that you are here."

"It's so good to see you again." James sat down at the table and took a closer look at his surroundings. He spotted a few things she had brought from India, a vase, a statue of a funny looking Hindu deity, some shells she had collected while they were talking a stroll at the beach. It reminded him of the time they had spent together. He also noticed how lovingly the table was set for two. Her dishes weren't the finest china and the cutlery not made of silver but that didn't matter to him; he didn't need that to feel at home.

Catherine poured two glasses of wine for them and they clinked glasses, toasting to finally being reunited and sealing that with another kiss. Then she served dinner. The roast was delicious; James wondered where she had learned to cook like that. After all, she stemmed from a noble family therefore she had never needed to bother with things like cooking or keeping the house since there were servants for those things; a fine lady just needed to know how to delegate them. But then again Catherine had never been like other fine young ladies who only cared about the newest fashion from London and looking pretty. She had been more interested in the works of new, talented and daring writers- a passion they had shared when they were young. But now, James wasn't up to date anymore. In fact he couldn't even remember when he had last read a book which was not about naval strategies, navigation or warfare, except for the one about the Asian flora and fauna he had studied before he had taken up service in Madras. Catherine, however, had not given up her passion. She could still go into raptures about the plays of subversive writers and she went regularly to the small theatres which had recently established in Soho.

His thoughts drifted off, daydreaming. He wished he could leave behind his rank and position, and go underground in the maze of London's small alleys, hiding away from the rest of the world and especially the Admiralty. He wished he could stay here with Catherine, leading the life of a simple man with no other obligations but to make her happy and take her out to the shows she loved so much.

"James?"

Her voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked up and saw her frowning at him.

"You don't listen to me at all. Now, tell me that's troubling you- and don't dare to tell me there's nothing to worry about because I do know that look on your face well enough."

James sighed; she was right, he had to fill her in. Most of what had happened she already knew given that he had written a letter to her the morning after having met Jack Sparrow and Bill Turner in Madras, three days before leaving for England, and postal vessels were fast, at least faster than the man-o-war Sovereign he had come here with.

Catherine heard him out although she was inwardly fuming. Finally she said, "Oh my God, this is really horrible. Captain Sparrow is a good man, he would never commit a cold-blooded murder."

"I know, darling..."

"And we owe him so much - well, at least I owe him. James, you can't let Lord Beaufort get away with such infamous lies!"

"There's nothing I can do about it, Cath. Though Jack Sparrow definitely has the nasty habit to steal himself into one's mind and stay there unasked, we should not forget the fact that he is a pirate. I don't want to become a victim of Lord Beaufort's conspiracy just because of him. My position, my reputation is at stake anyway."

Catherine tsked. "That's hardly Jack's fault."

"Well, perhaps not. But what am I supposed to do? I can't possibly walk into the First Lord's office and beg him to redeem Sparrow of a lifetime of wickedness just because of the few good deeds he has done. That would not only shed a bad light on my reputation, it would also encourage more ne'er-do-rights like Sparrow to take up piracy…"

"The man you were once, the man I used to know and fell in love with, did not care about his reputation when it concerned a friend."

"Jack Sparrow is definitely **not** my friend. We are merely acquaintances. I happen to know him- that's all. I don't even like him, he's annoying most of the time." James defended himself half-heartily, knowing that he was lying, that he did- somehow, in an incomprehensible way- care about that pirate. He would never admit it though. Frustrated he buried his head in his hands. "I don't know what to do, Cath. I can still tell wrong from right but on the other hand I **am **an officer of the Royal Navy, I have taken a vow to serve my country, therefore my first steps on English ground should have taken me straight to the Admiralty instead of coming here, and yet I didn't go there because… well, I didn't fear for my rank or my reputation but I was scared because I have so much to lose. What would become of you, love, if they accuse me of treachery?"

Catherine took his hands in hers, caressing them gently. "Shh, don't worry about me, darling. I'm fine, and I'm sure we will find a way if we think about it thoroughly. We have to find someone who will believe you, someone who is not on Lord Beaufort's payroll. You were right to come here first since the First Lord is probably not to be trusted."

"You think the First Lord of the Admiralty was also bribed by Beaufort?" He shot her a confused glance although it shouldn't have come as a surprise to him; after all, he had long suspected that Beaufort had friends in high circles.

"I wouldn't go so far to say he actually bribed Lord Ridgeway but isn't it a strange coincidence that Ridgeway's son has just married one of Beaufort's daughters?" Catherine smiled cannily when she saw James' eyes widening.

"You made inquiries about Lord Beaufort?"

"Yes. You know, Governor Weatherby Swann did still have a fair amount of influence here in London, his advice in political questions was highly appreciated, and he was well-liked by the King. His Majesty would like to know what actually happened to him…"

"Oh Cath, darling please- I can not ask for an audience with the King of England if I don't have any proof of a conspiracy, and that conspiracy is not against him but against a pirate. I will not make a mockery of myself. For what point and purpose? Even if I would manage to acquit Sparrow of the murder of Governor Swann, it doesn't matter; he will be swinging at the gallows anyway for all the other crimes he has committed in the name of piracy." In a lower tone, James added, "Well, if they ever get him…"

"Here's to hoping they never do," Catherine sighed, then she glanced insistently at James. "However, it's not only about Jack. As a man of honour you should be interested in investigating Governor Swann's death and not letting the real murderer get away. It's a matter of justice. Beaufort is arbitrarily misusing his position, he is bending laws and bribing people just for his own personal vendetta; he is perverting everything you believe in. We have to stop him."

Great idea, James thought sarcastically, as if he hadn't pondered about that all the long way from Madras to London. The problem was just that there wasn't anything he- or they- could do. Catherine was a divorced woman, shunned by the fine circles of high society in which she once had moved, therefore she hardly had any influence anymore. And he- well, he was merely a Commodore of the Royal Navy whose rank was at stake anyway, and since he had not reported at the Admiralty as he had been ordered, he could almost consider himself as a man without any considerable position. It was a hopeless case. Or was it not? Quizzically he raised a brow when Catherine mentioned her uncle, a certain Rupert Ashcroft. He remembered that he was a dubious person, one who never spoke much of what he was doing for his living, but apparently he knew not only the former First Lord of the Admiralty, Lord Burroughs, but also the King himself quite well- at least well enough to be welcomed to their houses any time. Besides, he was the only one of her family who hadn't let her down after her divorce from Edward Talbot, the Earl of Shrewsbury.

Catherine seemed enthusiastic, an emotion he could hardly share at the moment but which she understood. Gently she touched his face, whisking a strand of light-brown hair away before her hand came to rest on his cheek. "Ah darling, coming here was such a long journey for you and you must be tired. So why don't we just go to bed now? Tomorrow, things will look different."

James hesitated; although he had come here to find comfort in Catherine's arms he suddenly felt egotistic, merely thinking about himself and his problems, and not considering the problems his presence would mean for her. He couldn't stay for the night- he didn't know where to go but he definitely could not stay here if he didn't want to ruin her reputation. He rose from his chair with a heavy sigh.

"I have to leave. We have to be sensible and keep to the rules of propriety."

Catherine gave him a frown. "Oh James, please don't be so prudish. We're adults…"

"I'm worrying about your reputation, darling. There's nothing I want more but if I stay tonight the neighbours will start gossiping about you."

"Don't worry- I mean, it's sweet that you do but really not necessary. The people here are kind if you treat them kindly, with respect."

Catherine did more than just treating her neighbours with respect. Instead of spending the gemstones Jack had given her to keep up her former lifestyle as a noblewoman she had willingly chosen to live in the poorer quarters of the town where she could be more useful, and the locals who could not afford to visit the doctor valued her skills in healing. So she reassured James again that there was really nothing to worry about because no one would spy on her, the people here were much too concerned with their own problems.

James slept well this night. It was a blissful feeling that he could finally spend an entire night with Catherine instead of just secretly sharing a few hours of intimacy. It felt so perfectly right to hold her in his arms, dragging the blanket closer around them as if he wanted to make it a cocoon and lock out the world. Life could be so easy if it was only Catherine and him. But then again his conscience nagged him since he wasn't a man who easily ignored reality; he was not a dreamer. Mayhap he had been once but the first year in the Navy had taught him that dreams led nowhere when being confronted with real life, and real life hardly ever held any happy endings for an inappropriate love affair. Unfortunately, they lived in a world where reputation was everything, and even though Catherine had assured him that there was nothing to worry about, he did worry when he woke up, startled by a knock on the front door.

James opened his eyes, a bit disorientated at first. The small window covered with frost told him that he was in London and that it was winter. He shivered with cold. There was no oven in this room, let alone a servant to heat it up anyway… _God bless servants,_ he thought as he dressed quickly, still shivering in the icy cold air and trying not to behave like a pampered nobleman who was dependant on the help of servants.

He could hear Catherine talking to someone. With a mixture of curiosity and concern he opened the door to cast a glance into the kitchen. A wave of warmth greeted him- apparently Catherine had gotten up long before him to heat up the oven.

"James!" She turned around, smiling. It was such a warm-hearted, lovingly smile that it made his heart ache. "Did you sleep well?"

He gathered her in his arms, simply enjoying her proximity for a moment. Nevertheless he wasn't able to keep his worries at bay. As an officer of the Royal Navy he had learned to be cautious and vigilant, always on alert. "There was a knock on the door…"

"Yes." Catherine breathed a kiss on his lips but then she frowned, noticing his inner tension. Gently she touched his face in a reassuring gesture. "Darling, I told you not to worry. Please relax and try not to suspect a conspiracy or a jeopardy everywhere; the usual everyday life in this district really isn't that exciting. Sit down and drink a cup of tea. The one who came knocking was just little Tommy Holborn, a sweet, ten year old lad. He was so kind to bring me some fresh eggs- do you want them scrambled or fried?- and he runs errands for me ever since I helped his mother to deliver his baby sister. I gave him a message for Uncle Rupert so hopefully we will meet him soon."

James sat down and watched Catherine preparing breakfast for him. "Do you really believe he is in the position to help me? What exactly is his profession?"

"Well, I don't know much about his job," she admitted with a shrug, "but he got decorated and knighted for his service in the name of the crown. He definitely has considerable influence although he doesn't like to talk about it; Uncle Rupert is a modest man."

Rupert Ashcroft was a plain looking man, dressed in ordinary, even a bit shabby clothes. Though he had the typical reddish-blonde hair of the Ashcrofts and freckled skin he didn't resemble Catherine or her father at all. While they had aristocratic features, both being slim and tall, he was more stout. James remembered him as a jovial man, never disinclined to accept a good drop, and indeed Uncle Rupert had chosen a pub to meet them. But he wasn't a drunkard. His eyes were bright, vigilant, constantly observing. James didn't like the way they scrutinized him all over; it was as if they stripped him to lay bare even the darkest corner of his soul. Rupert Ashcroft was definitely not a man to be fooled. He didn't seem to be interested in wasting his time with polite small talk either, instead he preferred to come straight to the point. After all, there was no sense to exchange meaningless words about the London weather since that was cold and grey anyway.

Apparently Catherine had already informed her uncle about most of what had happened right after she had received James' last letter a couple of days ago, nevertheless Rupert wanted to hear the whole story again. He was an attentive listener.

"So you can positively rule out that Sparrow has killed Governor Swann?"

James nodded. He didn't like to defend a pirate but even Jack Sparrow was not able to be simultaneously in two different places- although he believed him capable of many things.

"Good. That's not the impression I gained of Sparrow either."

"You know Jack?" Catherine gasped surprised.

"Not personally," Rupert Ashcroft sounded as if he wanted to add '_unfortunately_' but suppressed it. He smiled benevolently at his niece. "but thanks to your dear Commodore we know a lot about the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. You did a good job, lad. The research must have almost consumed your life- no wonder you never married."

James felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. This was so embarrassing, being called a lad by Catherine's uncle let alone the remark about his marital status. He wasn't here to listen to that, feeling like a little, still wet behind his ears boy who had stolen apples from the neighbour's garden and was being interrogated. He was not the one who had committed a crime, all he could ever be accused of was disobedience, given that he should have reported to the Admiralty as soon as he arrived in London, which he hadn't. Probably he shouldn't be here now at all, meeting Uncle Rupert and telling him things without knowing more about him except that he was Catherine's uncle, and the only one of her posh family who hadn't let her down after her divorce. Though that surely made him likeable, it didn't make him a more trustworthy person either. What exactly was it that he did for a living? Rupert Ashcroft spoke and acted as if he had a military background but he didn't have any military rank. He behaved as slippery as a politician sometimes although he wasn't a member of the parliament. He seemed to know everyone of importance and yet his name was never mentioned anywhere, at least not in the circles James used to be associated with. So who was he? What was his rank, his status? James glanced at him with his jaws set tight, determined to not spill out any further information, to not lay his soul bare for Ashcroft to figure him out. Although he had nothing to hide he thought it would only be fair if the elder man would finally show his cards.

"Ah, Commodore, do I see aversion in your face, even mistrust? Don't worry, we do have the same interests. We are both loyal men, serving our King and County…." Rupert leaned over the table to blink jovially at James. "…and we both dote upon beautiful Catherine, don't we?" Without waiting for an answer he sat back while at the same time his mood seemed to switch to a more serious tone. "Believe me, although we have chosen different ways to show our loyalty- you, as a member of the Royal Navy, took the straightforward path while I am serving my King more… um, let's say _discretely_- if you know what I mean."

James Norrington was not a simpleton, therefore he knew what Rupert Ashcroft was just indicating. It was like scales falling from his eyes.

"Yes, Sir. I hazard a guess that you are one of the King's discrete agents," he said in a low voice, surreptitiously looking around to make sure that no one was eavesdropping on them- which was very unlikely given that the pub was crowded and the noise level correspondingly high.

"Actually, I'm the head of that department."

"Oh," James had to swallow hard, nevertheless he managed to breathe, "then why do you care about my story, about the conspiracy against a pirate?"

"Because of Beaufort." The elder man sighed and ordered another round of beer. "I want to see him securely locked away behind bars, or- even better- executed. You know, the murder of Governor Weatherby Swann is probably not the only murder he has committed... well, perhaps he hasn't really committed these deeds himself but he has most likely arranged them. However, the problem is that although I know for sure that he is responsible for many crimes, he definitely is a cunning bastard and a very cautious man. Despite of dealing with him for many years now I still haven't been able to prove anything."

"Oh my god, what else has he done?" James asked astonished.

"Well, you know why he had to return to England in disgrace, do you?"

"It was because of Sparrow. He ended his promising career in the East India Trading Company."

"No. Though Sparrow undoubtedly made a fool of him it was Beaufort himself who ruined his career; it was his perverted lust for pretty boys. The incident with Sparrow just made that public and although the Company tried to hush things, rumours had already spread. These rumours stopped when he married Mary Wilkinson, the daughter of an old-established family of British peerage, and their first child was born. I would say he merely became more careful then, perfectly hiding his… um, preferences. Mind, I could be wrong but there **had** been several cases of missing children, boys, in the area where he lived. They were found dead years later. A coincidence? Well, perhaps. At least there is no way to **prove** it was him and even I saw no connection with Beaufort until Venice. He was ambassador there, about ten years ago. During his stay in Venice he became close friends with an Italian family called d'Abruzzo. A family that died under mysterious circumstances during a boat trip to the offshore islands in which their gondola sank, leaving the son of said family the sole survivor of this tragically _accident_. The lad had been sitting in Beaufort's boat. Beaufort adopted him and took him home to England."

"But wasn't that a very noble gesture of him?" Catherine interrupted thoughtfully.

"Well, so it seems," Rupert agreed, continuing sarcastically, "but on the other hand that boy, Angelo, was an extremely handsome young lad with almost angelic features and a body that makes Michelangelo's statues look plain in comparison to him."

"What happened to the poor lad? Did he kill him, too?"

"No, Angelo is still alive. He isn't even being held captive at Beaufort Castle. Instead, Beaufort has given him an excellent education, and he has served the Navy for three years in order to gain some nautical and military skills. There had never been any hints of abuse either- nevertheless I mightily doubt that Beaufort is just a doting foster father who likes to show off with his handsome protégée…"

"Randy Charly," James whispered, shaking his head.

Rupert arched a brow at him.

"I beg your pardon, Sir," he blushed, "but that's what Bootstrap Bill Turner called him."

"Bootstrap Bill? Sparrow's first mate if I remember correctly. Ah, isn't it ironic how unjust laws or the people who bend them can turn an honest man into a pirate? The rampant corruption and despotism among noblemen has to be stopped; it is affronting His Majesty's legislation."

"You are definitely right, Sir."

"I'm glad we agree on that. Good. Actually that's very good because I could use a skilled and loyal man to carry out some investigations about Beaufort in the Caribbean." Rupert glanced at James who returned the glance with disbelief, shifting around uneasily on his chair.

"I feel honoured, Sir," James answered after clearing his throat, "and though I'd surely be very much obliged to be of any help, I fear that this decision is not up to me. The First Lord has to give his approval, which I doubt he will. You ought to know that I most likely have fallen into disgrace for not reporting at the Admiralty as soon as reaching London"

"Nonsense, lad." Rupert cut him off with an impatient gesture. "Forget about Lord Ridgeway. He will do what **I **tell him, and besides, I don't need a Navy officer in Port Royal."

"You want me to work as a spy?"

"Well, spy is such a nasty word, it gives any noble matter a disreputable ring and I'm not asking you to do anything disreputable. All I'm asking you is to continue your good service to your King and Country but on a different level. So, I will arrange your suspension from the Navy- Lord Ridgeway won't oppose to this, given that this is corresponding to his own interests. You're going to sail to Port Royal as an unobtrusive civilian, visiting old friends there, keeping your eyes and ears open…"

_Friends?_ James became bitterly aware of the fact that he didn't have any friends in Port Royal- he had always been too consumed with his career and hunting down pirates, let alone that it wasn't even appropriate to make friends with subordinates. Then, suddenly, the face of a young lieutenant flashed up in his mind's eye… _that's got to be the best pirate I've ever seen_… Lieutenant Theodore Groves. Though they had never been close and he most certainly didn't like to be reminded of Sparrow's spectacular commandeering the Interceptor right from under the noses of the whole Royal Navy, Groves had been right in the end therefore he might be a man worth visiting.

"Of course," Rupert Ashcroft continued after casting a quick, sidelong glance at Catherine, "a lovely honeymoon couple visiting old friends in Port Royal would be even more unobtrusive, and besides, four eyes see more than just two."

It took James a moment to grasp what Uncle Rupert was about but when he finally got the whole meaning of his words he immediately shook his head, gasping indignantly. "Oh no, you cannot possibly consider to get your niece involved in this! I won't allow you to endanger her."

He took Catherine's hand in his to give it a reassuring squeeze, indicating that there was nothing to worry about when in fact she wasn't worried at all. Instead, there was a fairly unladylike, adventurous sparkle in her eyes.

"But James, darling, isn't this exciting? We're getting the chance to spy for Uncle Rupert and at long last for the a King himself," she whispered to him in a furtively tone.

The idea was much too exciting for James' liking; he simply wanted to keep her out of any dangers since she had gone through too many horrors before. Gently he stroke her cheek. "No, Cath. Even though I know that your uncle is giving me a chance to restore my reputation- probably my only chance- I nevertheless have to turn down his kind offer if he involves you. Beaufort is an unscrupulous man, you heard what Uncle Rupert just told about him. There might be unexpected dangers awaiting us in Port Royal, dangers, I really don't want to expose you to, darling. Also, your reputation has to be considered. We cannot and will not pretend to be a couple on honeymoon when we aren't even married."

"Oh, I can fix that within an hour," Rupert offered nonchalantly.

"It's not that easy," James snapped, nervously running his fingers through his hair. If only there were just Catherine and him, then life would be far less complicated. He definitely loved her and wanted to spend his entire life with her, grow old with her, but on the other hand he also knew that his family who would never approve to a marriage with a divorced woman.

"Well, I thought you had more guts. I need a real man in Port Royal, one who is cunning and clever- but if you're not man enough to marry the woman you love without whining about what your family will think then you are probably not the right man for me."

"Uncle, please, you cannot expect James to make a decision of such an important matter within a minute," Catherine gasped indignantly, "Give him time- give **us** time to talk about it."

"In my opinion you have already wasted too much time." Rupert got up and immediately five or six other men rose from their chairs, awaiting his orders.

Rupert Ashcroft managed to arrange a wedding within less than two hours. It wasn't the romantic wedding Catherine and James had dreamt of. There was no time for fancy clothes or to invite friends, and the church was more like a little chapel with Uncle Rupert and two of his agents being the only guests. Nevertheless the ceremony itself was very emotional when they spoke their vows and exchanged rings.

Only a moment later they were already sitting in a carriage and on their way to Portsmouth, where a ship was waiting for them in order to take them to the Caribbean.

"See, it was quite easy, wasn't it?" Uncle Rupert said as he patted James' shoulder.

"I never doubted my love to Catherine, Sir." James retorted firmly, though he still felt a bit run over by the course of events. In the morning he would have never expected to be a married man by the end of the day. However, it was a good feeling. He glanced at his newly wedded wife and knew that he had made the right decision.

"Ah, don't be so formal, Jamie-boy, and stop calling me Sir. It's Uncle Rupert for you…"

James felt the blood rush to his cheeks, wishing the bench of this carriage would open up and swallow him. He wouldn't mind if Rupert were a little less informal since being called Jamie-boy was really, really embarrassing. Catherine chuckled.

"…we're family now," Rupert continued, "and speaking of family, don't worry about yours. They will approve to your marriage when they find out that the King himself approves to it. I'm sure he will reward you with a knighthood if you succeed."

James didn't care about being knighted or not as long as this mission Uncle Rupert had talked him into would not endanger Catherine, but the old weasel had plausibly assured him that a honeymoon in the Caribbean was hardly dangerous. After all, he had not encouraged them to do anything more courageous than keeping their eyes and ears open, and he had also given him a letter that granted him plenary authority over all military forces in Port Royal whenever he might need them. Though that would never be enough to completely cease his feeling of uneasiness, it nevertheless reduced his worst worries.

After several hours of nightly travel on desolated streets with only one short stop to exchange horses, the carriage arrived at the docks of Portsmouth. It was still dark outside and a nasty wind was blowing, carrying cold air full of sleet. James left the carriage shivering and immediately wrapped a protective arm around Catherine's shoulders to shelter her from the cold while at the same time seeking the warmth of her body. Probably it wasn't such a bad idea to leave the English winter behind and sail to the Caribbean. Although he definitely loved his country, he came to the conclusion that he could as well serve his King in the warmer regions of his empire, like he had done for many years before.

His thoughts were distracted when he noticed the busy hustle and bustle at the docks. A number of men were storing supplies aboard a ship that gained his attention. As an officer of the Royal Navy he had seen and captained many ships, mostly man-o'-wars. This one was not as big as the Sovereign or the Dauntless, it was merely a two-master, but the slender form of her promised speed. The Sea Eagle was without doubt a fast ship… and yet she could probably not match the Black Pearl. James shrugged. Fortunately he was not supposed to hunt down eccentric pirates on this assignment.

"What about Sparrow?" He asked nevertheless.

"My best regards to him." Uncle Rupert replied cheerfully.

James shot him a flabbergasted glance.

"Well, I am not interested in seeing Captain Jack Sparrow swinging at the gallows and the King isn't either. His Majesty was highly amused when hearing of Sparrow's latest prank, the raid of the ecclesiastical riches of Lima. It was one of Spain's best kept secrets that the treasure should have been taken to Spain and yet Sparrow found out about it. Brilliant. I wish he was working for me."

James clenched his teeth. It was stupid but he suddenly felt like he was only second best, pushed out of favour by a pirate. He decided to never tell Jack that the King of England was amused at his deeds since he was too full of himself anyway, and getting to know this would merely make him unbearable.


	20. Of Pirates and Pineapples

Chapter 20- Of Pirates and Pineapples Tortuga 

While most sailors that went ashore in Tortuga were looking for some pleasant company to spend the night with, Rowan Scarlett walked the streets seeking solitude. She had left Jack at the _Faithful Bride_, surrounded by willing doxies who were keen to meet the infamous pirate captain. She was quite certain that he was better off without her. Things weren't going too well between them, which definitely was not Jack's fault; Rowan didn't blame him. She was the one who had fucked it up, starting with leaving him after Kalpitiya and not finding her way back to him, thinking that he didn't love her anymore because he had not come running after her, mistaking his respect for her decision with disinterest, believing more in his reputation than in the man himself. At least she understood that now. It could have been the perfect time for a new start since Jack still loved her like she loved him. Unfortunately, the timing was everything but opportune. She silently cursed the day they had met again and most of all she cursed the stupid idea to ask for his help to get back her ship. Well, she had needed a passage to the Caribbean but she should have known that he would ask questions she couldn't answer. Not now. And later it would probably be too late. Frustrated she kicked at a stone and sent it clinking against a window. Probably she just wasn't made for any long-term relationships.

The whole situation was so goddamned messed up. On the one hand she wanted to be with Jack and on the other hand she was about to run away again, wishing she could first finish her issues and keep her promise… it wasn't only about her ship. Of course she wanted the Jewel back but there were also some other things that mattered, she had to keep secret which led to heated arguments she didn't want; she definitely had not intended to quarrel with him on a daily basis. Once again she wished she hadn't met him in Madras. She should have taken another ship to the Caribbean, like she had planned. Things would have been easier without Jack being involved, at least she wouldn't have to constantly lie to him. But she had been weak that night, too keen to not leave his bed, his cabin, his life after two years of separation, a separation caused by her. She had needed a break after the horrors of Kalpitiya, she had had to be alone to find herself again, and though she had missed him terribly those two years she had somehow not managed to find her way back until it seemed to be too late anyway. So many misunderstandings, misinterpretations... instead of simply following her heart she had almost sought for reasons why it couldn't be like it used to, and now she was absolutely sure that it would never ever be the way is was before. She had thoroughly fucked it up and each day of keeping secrets merely made it worse. If only she hadn't stayed that night in Singapore, if only she hadn't _lost_ the Jewel, if only she hadn't got shot in Bombay- starting with if only she had returned to him as she had stated in her letter, making him believe that she would actually come back. However, it didn't make sense to lament to the sound of if only because you're always wiser in the end.

Rowan felt incredibly miserable when she tossed open the door of the _Prancing Dragon_, desperately in need of a drink. Somehow she had to fill the increasing void within her.

The barkeeper recognized her immediately- probably he didn't have too many customers that were female pirate captains and, after all, she had been a regularly guest in former times. Fleeting memories of Santiago flashed though her mind. Rowan wondered what he would have told her to do if he was still around while staring at the glass of wine in front of her, wishing for something stronger. Well, probably Santiago would not have been any help in sorting out her mixed emotions since he would have only given her the advise to stay away from Captain Jack Sparrow anyway. She raised her glass in a silent toast… _ta, that's **not** what I want to hear now_. Her glance fell on the tattooed ring on her finger. It still meant something to her…

Polishing a glass, the barkeeper stared at her.

"What's up?" She barked at him. "Never seen a drinking woman before? Instead of staring ye could give me another drink."

"Sure." With a shrug he poured her another glass of wine before he continued staring at her, scratching his head as if he was thinking hard about something that had slipped his mind. Then, suddenly, he seemed to remember what that was because he beamed cheerfully. "Ye're Capt'n Rowan Scarlett, aye?"

"Aye," Rowan growled, wondering if he was merely daft or downright annoying since he definitely knew for sure who she was. After all, this wasn't the first time she'd been here.

"Good!" He had the nerve to smile at her like a madman, then he started to rummage through piles of papers and other stuff behind the bar until he found what he had been looking for. "Good, that's very good- 'cause if ye're Captain Rowan Scarlett I've a message for ye."

Pleased with himself the barkeeper handed her a dirtied piece of paper that once had probably been neatly folded and sealed. It didn't surprise Rowan that the seal was broken- what else could you expect at a place like this?- but the seal itself. She furrowed her brows.

"Who gave ye this?"

"Well, 'twas a man. A tall, dark-haired Irishman…"

"McCoy?"

"Aye," he beamed at her, "that's 'is name. Told me he's one o' yer crew, yer second in command, an' I also remember havin' seen 'im with ye before. Back when the good ol' Senor Santiago was still 'round." The barkeeper sighed, crossing himself absent-mindedly. "God bless 'is soul. He was a kinda odd man but one with 'is heart at the right spot, always cared 'bout the li'le street urchins… did ye know he left his house to a Chinese wench with the order to make it an orphanage?"

Rowan didn't bother to point out that Mai-Lin was a Siamese and not a Chinese woman since the barkeeper wouldn't be able to get the difference anyway, and besides, she knew very well about Santiago's last will. It really didn't matter now. Instead, she unfolded the message and read it.

_He really is hiding in Port Royal_ was written there, signed with a Chinese symbol.

Smiling wryly she folded the paper and stowed it securely in her pocket.

-

People in Tortuga didn't like to answer questions and most of all they didn't like people who were asking questions; it was unpopular behavior and regarded with suspicion. Bill had found that out quickly. He didn't mind the old salts who merely gave him the cold shoulder, grumpily staring into their mugs, pretending ignorance. At least they made clear that they did not want to talk to him. It wasn't polite but he hadn't expected to find politeness amongst villains. No, what really bugged him were the young ne'er-do-rights, still wet behind their unwashed ears and always eager to pick a fight. When he left the taverns they would lie in wait in the dark alleys as if something was wrong with having a good, solid cantina brawl nowadays. They believed him to be an interloper although he had been roaming the streets of Tortuga when they were still little ankle-biters, and of course they had never been to Asia. Therefore they had never seen any Kung Fu fighting before. He didn't know whether he should feel flattered when he saw them running away, scared shitless after showing them a few of his tricks, or irritated, because they had obviously thought him to be an old man who could hardly defend himself. Though he did have some white strands in his hair he was definitely not an old man.

It didn't improve his mood when he returned to the Faithful Bride and found Jack sitting at exactly the same spot where he had left him some hours ago, the same strumpet at his side. Usually, Bill was a calm, patient man who could deal quite well with his friend's oddities and eccentric behaviour. But after having visited almost ever lousy drinking hole of Tortuga in order to find out something about the Jewel Star- which foremost should have been Jack's business- and getting involved in unwanted fights just because of it, his patience was slowly wearing damned thin. He felt anger boiling up within him since Jack had apparently chosen to take it easy.

"Bootstrap!" The pirate raised his mug in a toast, slurring, "C'mon mate, 'ave a drink with good ol' Jack 'n meet pretty… um, whatshername? Dolly? Dolores? Dorothy…"

"Doreen," the wench reminded him with a slap, "my name's Doreen."

"That wasn't necessary, darlin'." Rubbing his cheek he glanced at Bill. "Sweet lass, ain't she?"

Bill rolled his eyes. He looked around for Rowan, wondering where she was and why she wasn't here to kick Jack's ass.

"Where's Rowan?"

"Who's Rowan?" Doreen hissed.

"She's nobody, anybody, no one of importance 'cept for the minor fact that she's sort of me wife…" The beads in his hair jingled when Doreen slapped him again, much harder this time.

"You… you bloody **_pirate_**!"

"Ouch!" Jack grimaced painfully. "I'm sure I didn't deserve that."

Bill did not agree. In his opinion Jack had deserved something more efficient than just the usual slap in the face. His careless behaviour annoyed him tremendously.

"Well, luv, now that ye had yer way with me why don't ye scurry over to the bar to get two mugs o' rum for Bootstrap 'n me?" Jack watched Doreen walk off with provocatively swaying hips as if she hadn't given up on him, or- to be more precisely- the coins in his purse. He, however, turned his attention to Bill. "What was yer question again?"

"Blast! I asked you about Rowan. Where is she?"

Jack shrugged. Then he looked under the table and shrugged again. "Not there."

Bill felt the urgent desire to give his friend a good shaking. "No, of course not. Does that surprise ye? She must have been extremely pissed off seeing ye flirting with the whores…"

"Don't worry, she'll be back soon." Jack cut him off, leaning conspiratorially closer, whispering, "She needs me help."

"Ah, and what a really great help ye are!" Bill sneered as he thumped the table with his fist. "Ye're such a bloody selfish git! We came here to make some inquiries about the Jewel's whereabouts but all ye have in mind is drinking and whoring. I thought ye'd care more about Rowan. After all, ye used to love her once. Ye called her the compass that set the course of yer heart, the salt of the seas, yer safe harbour…"

"No reason to get melodramatic now, mate."

"Those were yer words."

"Isn't it rather that ye wouldn't mind a little drinkin' 'n whorin' either but forgotten 'bout it due to yer superfluous runnin' 'round, askin' questions nobody wants to answer anyway?"

"If that is superfluous, what did we come here for at all? To waste our time? And don't tell me it was merely for drinking and whoring."

Jack flashed him a wry half-smile, indicating that indeed he had been about to say just that but then he changed his mind. "Bill, mate, we're in Tortuga, savvy?"

"Aye, I noticed that."

"Well, apparently not, because if ye had, ye wouldn't have wasted yer time by running around, asking questions in a town that's teeming with so-called _shady characters_, which equates to a populous that isn't keen on being interrogated. It should therefore be clear to ye that making them feel as if the Holy Inquisition has just come upon them might not have been the wisest course, when instead ye simply should have enjoyed the pleasures of Tortuga. Sometimes it's so much more efficient to just sit back and listen, listen closely. Savvy?"

"That doesn't make any sense." Bill rose from his chair, being too fed up with Jack's quirks to notice the slight change his voice. "Let's continue our conversation when you're sober again."

Jack was rendered speechless for a moment since it stung worse than any slap in the face to see his friend walking away mad due to some stupid misunderstandings. He wasn't half as drunk as Bill believed. Immediately he hurried to catch up with him but not without snatching two mugs of rum out of Doreen's hands first.

Juggling the mugs carefully he left the Faithful Bride and bumped into Bill who apparently had started to ponder about his words, given that he stared at Jack in astonishment.

"Ye cheating, lying bastard…"

"Pirate!" Jack grinned as he opened his arms in a welcoming gesture, then he handed Bill one of the mugs. "Have some rum, mate, and relax." He wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulder and blinked idly against the early morning sun. "Ah, ain't this a truly beautiful morning?"

"Stop distracting me, ye devious bastard. Tell me what ye meant with _listen closely_. Am I right to assume that- once again- ye managed to find out more than I did although ye were merely hanging around in the Bride, doing nothing at all?"

"Isn't is amazing how people will always underestimate the drunks, because when they consider ye to be drunk they care little about what they give away, assuming ye won't grasp it anyway. And far less suspicious than the usual drunk who just stares into his drink is the drunk with a doxy sitting on his lap, given that he's supposed to be too consumed with erotic thoughts to eavesdrop on other people's conversations…"

"Come to the point, Jack."

"Alright," Jack clinked mugs with Bill before he continued, "as it seems the Jewel doesn't make berth here anymore- in fact she hasn't been seen in Tortuga for years- so she is either crewed by ascetics or eunuchs," he pulled a disgusted face, "or both, but definitely not by honest pirates. Actually, some of the honest pirates that crewed the Jewel once had also come searching for her though they managed to do that without stirring up a hornet's nest like ye did. That leads to a very interesting conclusion because we can almost certainly rule out the possibility that her old crew incited a mutiny against Rowan, marooned her, and sailed away with her pretty boat- um, ship- although we still don't know **how **she lost the Jewel. All I know is the name of the guy who captains the Jewel now."

"Really?" Bill shot him an expectantly glance. "So what's his name?"

"That's irrelevant since it's most likely not his real name. No one calls himself Smith unless he has something to hide given that Smith is the most unobtrusive name one could choose which makes Smith a highly suspicious name. Savvy?"

"Ye really drive me up the wall sometimes, Jack." Bill felt tempted to give him a good shaking for being such an obnoxious smart ass but then he spotted a sparkle from the corner of his eyes, as if the morning sun was reflecting on something metallic, like the blade of a sword or the barrel of a gun. He turned his head slightly and saw a man with a musket on a roof nearby, aiming his gun at Jack.

"Get down!" He yelled, dragging his friend to the ground just in time.

A shot rang.

The bullet hit a poor mule that was drawing a cart loaded with barrels. The poor beast hee-hawed loudly with pain, kicked around wildly, and then ran off. Barrels rolled off the cart, knocking over some men who should have unloaded the cart in a more organized manner, and of course each of them accused someone else for this mishap until they started fighting. Typically, for a place like Tortuga it didn't take long for others to join in.

In midst of the mayhem around them, Jack arched a brow at Bill. "Well, if I'm driving ye up the wall, then why are we lying in the gutter now? By the way, ye spilled the rum."

"Right, I should have saved the rum instead of ye." Bill groaned.

That moment a shadow fell upon them.

"My, my, I know ye're quite fond of each other but don't ye think that ye're going a tad too far now? Cuddling in the gutter in the bright of day."

"Rowan! Luv, I'm so sorry- I never wanted ye to find out 'bout me and Bill like that..."

"Idiot!" Bill elbowed him and jumped to his feet, addressing Rowan. "Don't listen to him-he's such a stupid git today. No wonder someone tried to shoot him. But," he scanned the roofs, trying to remember where the shot had came from, "I won't let the bastard get away with it. No one is to harm a hair of his thick head. Keep a sharp eye on him."

"Aye." Rowan agreed laughing while Jack just gazed at her, thinking how pretty she was when she laughed. Alas, it hadn't happen very often lately. Soon she turned her eyes on him, asking mockingly, "So, whom did ye annoy today?"

"Honestly, I'm just an innocent by-stander who accidentally happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I've got nothing to do with this." Jack spread his arms to point vaguely at the chaos around them.

It almost seemed as if participating in a brawl was considered as some kind of civic duty by the inhabitants of Tortuga. More and more folks joined in a fight that had started off with a bolting mule and some barrels rolling off a cart- an incident that ended in a total pandemonium, like a little stone kicking off an avalanche. Now, men were fighting each other just for the sake of it. Or for fun. Or to give vent to subliminal angers and long bottled up frustration. However, reasons didn't matter when fists were flying, eager to hurt someone, anyone. A few guys contented themselves with firing their pistols in order to contribute their share to the increasing noise level, while others became very inventive in thinking up things to throw at someone else.

"What a mess. We'd better return to the Pearl!"

"Great idea," Jack agreed though it was not their safety he had in mind. He pondered whether people might be right by saying that he was daft since he could have had any strumpet tonight, and yet he had resisted them because of Rowan- who had left him to go wherever and do whatever. But if he asked her where she had been it would merely lead to endless debates he wasn't keen on. Not now.

They managed to pave their way through the fighting crowd without getting involved in any trouble, nevertheless Jack stopped a couple of times to glance over his shoulder, and each time his unrest was increasing. Then, while looking back once again, he stumbled over something on the ground and saw a knocked out man lying in the remains of what used to be a market stall selling pineapples. He froze in his tracks, staring at the ground. Rowan bumped into him.

"Damned, what's wrong? C'mon, let's scurry back to the Pearl. This is not the friendliest place to linger."

Jack ignored her. Instead, he picked up one pineapple and held it in his hands, gazing at it. "I really hate him when he does that," he told the pineapple. "giving me a bad conscience. Blast, I'm a pirate, I don't need that. It's bad enough that I rejected the prettiest doxies of Tortuga for the sake of a wench who doesn't give a damn; I don't have to take his hand and see to it that he returns home safe. I'm not to blame for this pandemonium. After all, this is Tortuga. He should be used to it, savvy? I should simply keep to the Code and return to the Pearl to have a good screw- but no, this bloody conscience is nagging me, so I'll forget 'bout the screw and spoil me reputation completely because of a pineapple. Oh bugger, I'm growing bloody soft."

"What're ye babbling, Jack? Are ye really talking to a pineapple? How much rum did ye have last night?"

"Rum's got nothing to do with it," Jack said vehemently, "blame the pineapple- never share stolen pineapples on a Tortugan roof if ye don't want to end as a sentimental fool, and remember that loyalty is bothersome, always conflicting with the Code. I gotta see how bloody William is faring. No matter how often I told him to **not **do anything stupid he **never **listens to me."

Shaking her head, Rowan followed Jack as he made his way back through the chaotic mess of a still fighting crowd, the pineapple tucked safely under his arm. As far as she had understood he worried about Bill although she didn't grasp what a fruit had to do with it- perhaps that was just one of the typical oddities of Captain Jack Sparrow. Like his way to walk, swaying and yet prancing, totally unimpressed with what was going on around him. He casually pushed aside a man who was about to knock out another one with a bottle, then he stopped and took the bottle out of the bloke's hand, telling him politely that that would be a terrible waste of rum.

They left the crowded streets and entered the smaller alleys behind the Faithful Bride where the mood was less aggressive, and the noises of the brawl faded to a more tolerable level.

Bill cursed silently, wondering what was wrong with him today. Usually, he didn't lose his temper that easily, and yet he had just killed a man. Not in cold blood though; it had happened accidentally, because he couldn't control his anger with a stinking piece of shit that had tried to shoot Jack. Bill didn't mind that the bastard was dead now, but that he had broken his neck **before **he could find out why the fellow had wanted to shoot Jack. Of course there were many possible reasons for that given that Captain Jack Sparrow was quite good at annoying people. However, this attack had been of a more malicious nature than merely someone who had felt offended by Jack's ways. The guy himself had confessed that he'd been after the price put on the pirate's head.

Suddenly he heard footsteps approaching him. Bill stopped with what he was doing and drew his sword, knowing that even in Tortuga it wasn't wise to get caught with a dead man at your feet, especially not if you're rummaging through his pockets. That was probably considered highly suspicious everywhere.

Fortunately, it was only Jack and Rowan who came around the corner, so he breathed a sigh of relief and put away his sword; he wasn't good at using it anyway.

"Jack!" He gasped surprised. "What are ye doing here?"

"Well, I thought ye might need some help"

"Ta, mate, but as ye can see I'm quite able to mess up things all by me onesies." Bill cut him off, still angry with himself for having lost his temper.

"Is that the guy who tried to shoot me?" Jack stepped closer to take a look at the dead man. "Hm, can't remember having offended him before…"

"He said he's a bounty hunter, keen on the price put on yer head. I wanted to find out more but, alas, I was overreacting, trying to beat the truth out of him… I broke his neck, accidentally." _ Was it really an accident or did I fear of what I might find out about **who** had put the price on Jack's head?_

"A bounty hunter?" Rowan hissed, not disguising her loathing of people who valued cash over life. "The brethren of the coast was a lie, there's no loyalty amongst pirates."

"Never has been," Jack agreed absent-mindedly while looking at Bill as if he could read his mind. "Nah, I know what yer thinking but I'm sure he wouldn't…"

"I'm not so sure."

"No, not him. I guess Beaufort's behind the head money."

"Perhaps. Nevertheless he'd give ye away without blinking an eye."

"Ye're sure?"

"Ye can't trust him anymore, Jack."

"I never did." He shrugged it off. It stung, but the pain was familiar. Not so the miserable expression on Bill's face, as if he felt guilty for his son.

"Pineapple?" Jack offered.

Rowan didn't understand half as much as she wished and most of all she didn't understand why Bill didn't smash the bloody pineapple on Jack's head. Instead, their eyes locked and he cracked a wry smile as if they shared some long forgotten memories. Once again, she felt locked out. Though she didn't begrudge them their friendship- actually she was glad that Jack had such a loyal friend like Bill- she nevertheless was a bit jealous of the deep bond between them.

"Well," Jack said after a moment of silence, shooting a brief glance at the corpse, "he's dead, deader than dead, and most likely he will remain dead, so why don't we return to the Pearl?"

By the time they headed towards the docks, the riot in the streets had ceased. Some soldiers that were stationed in the French fortress on a rock high above the town had intervened in an attempt to keep up law and order, and though they had only intervened when it had seemed safe enough for them to show up, their presence was nevertheless an inevitable sign of a change in the wind. Tortuga wasn't like it used to be anymore and it was foreseeable that its days as a pirate haven would come to an end. The three pirates scampered to the docks, feeling uneasy.

All of a sudden, Jack, who hadn't cared much about Rowan before, turned around to address her, asking casually, "By the way, luv, does the name Anthony Smith has a familiar ring to ye?"

"No," she replied honestly and shook her head, "never heard of him. Why- should I? Who's he?"

"I thought ye could answer this because allegedly he's the one who captains the Jewel now, ergo he most likely is also the one who stole her from ye, which leads to the conclusion that ye should know him."

Rowan arched a surprised brow, wondering aloud. "Oh… well, last time I met him he called himself Antonio Belleri…"

"Ah, now that's really interesting." Jack shot a glance at Bill. "See, mate, I **_told_** ye that no real person is called Smith- except for some few, unfortunate souls who inherited this dubious name from their fathers, that is- because Smith is a name chosen by every shady character in the world, given that he speaks English. Italians, however, might call themselves _Belleri_ if they're handsome. So, Rowan, darling, is he a handsome fellow, the one who stole yer ship?"

"That doesn't matter at all," she snapped as she walked up the Pearl's gangway, determined not to give away more than she already had. It was getting harder and harder to keep secrets from Jack. She didn't like it but she had to be careful.

Jack sighed wearily, so damned tired of this whole situation. Nevertheless he decided to not push her further since she wouldn't spill out more information anyway- she could be as stubborn as he was in keeping things close to the vest… for him it had been a hard learned lesson. Pretending not no care about her at all he splashed some water from a barrel in his face, trying to cool down.

"Do it thoroughly, dirty pirate." Bill said teasingly, as he ducked his friend's head in the barrel laughing when Jack resurfaced spluttering. His dreadlocks looked like the tails of dead rats

Rowan watched them throwing buckets full of water at each other which merely got them wet but definitely not cleaner. However, they seemed to be having fun. It wasn't logical either that they took off their shirts after they were soaked, dripping rivulets on the dark planks of the Pearl. Then they sat down on the rail, letting the sun dry them while sharing the damned pineapple. She didn't understand what they were talking about but the sight couldn't have been better since they were two darn good looking pirates.

Jack's body she knew quite well; she had watched him, touched him, many times over. He was slender in comparison to Bill, with lean cords of muscles running beneath his tanned Caribbean skin. Bill was more broad-shouldered, his muscles more solid- a body formed and toughened by hard work. Neither the years in the Buddhist monastery nor the comfortable life with his family had left any trace on him, there wasn't even an ounce too much on his ribs. He was also tanned but unlike Jack, who only had one tattoo, Bill looked as if his skin had been the canvas of a tattoo artist. His forearms were covered with maritime motives, like the naked mermaid that had almost given him away in Lima. Above that was an anchor, and on his other forearm a smiling shark. The name of the Pearl was inked into his skin, as well as a picture of a ship that vaguely resembled her. His upper arms proved his Asian influence, showing a Yin/Yang sign, some Chinese symbols, and a prancing tiger. But his most impressive, and biggest tattoo was that of a dragon glancing over his shoulder. It was a masterpiece, so very detailed and extremely well done that it almost seemed to be alive. The head of the beast- although, you had to admit that it was a funny looking beast with mischievous eyes and a broad grinning mouth- covered the left side of his chest, one paw rested on his left shoulder, while the other dug its claws in the right side of his chest. The dragon's body was spread all over his back as if it had just landed on him, its wings still unfurled, and its long tail was wound around Bill's waist, ending or even pointing at a tattoo not everyone got to see. Rowan, however, knew that he had the word 'pirate' tattooed in a neat line right above his pubic hair… but that was another story… she wondered whether Jack knew about her little encounter with his friend.

In any case, Bill definitely didn't look an inch like the grandfather of two spoiled brats.

When the two pirates had finished their breakfast of pineapple and rum, Jack vanished to his cabin in order to do some important captain stuff- as he stated- while Bill remained on deck. He sat down on the sun-warmed planks of the Pearl, and tried to overcome his tiredness with meditation since his thoughts were still too much in a state of unrest to even think of sleep. So much had happened last night and Tortugan nights were always so damned long… Meditation would help to sort his thoughts- if only he could relax, but it wasn't easy to relax when you sense that you're being watched. With a sigh he opened his eyes and looked at Rowan, who seemed to be unsure whether to disturb him or not although she eyed him with obvious curiosity.

"What's on yer mind, dear?"

"Why did ye two make such a fuss 'bout a bloody pineapple?" She asked, sitting down cross- legged in front of him.

"Ah that." Bill smiled, lost in thoughts for a moment. "I guess we both remembered my first stay in Tortuga... Jack couldn't believe that a London boy had never seen a pineapple before, let alone eaten one, so he stole some at the market. We shared them on a roof, dripping with sticky sweet pineapple juice while overlooking the chaos he had caused. That was his version of having fun, but I liked it."

"Aye, that sounds just like Jack." Rowan chuckled, imagining it, before she shot Bill a more serious glance. "How he was when he was younger, when ye met?

"Why d'ye wonder how he was then if ye don't care 'bout him now?" Apparently Bill's words had hit a sore point because he noticed the hurt expression on her face and felt sorry for it, but he wasn't in the mood to talk about his friendship with Jack either. "Well, he was a younger smart ass, cocksure and too full of himself. Nothing's changed."

Of course that wasn't the truth. A lot had changed. No one lived through a mutiny unharmed, and the mutiny had definitely left its marks on Jack. When they had met, he had been a funny looking scarecrow with a brilliant mind, a skilled sailor, and- despite his youth- he had proved to be a fair, prudent captain. Almost instantly Bill had been intrigued by him, infatuated by his way of thinking, so daringly rebellious. He was a nonconformist, even an anarchist, as mad as he was brilliant, a charmer and a clown, a pirate. But most of all he was a young man with a good heart yet emotionally insecure, boasting to get attention although all he had yearned for was affection, to be loved not only despite of what he was but because of it. So Bill had opened his arms wide for Jack to lay all his madness in, and he had embraced it. As a result they had become more than friends but less than lovers, brothers in heart.

"Does he know 'bout us, that one night?" Rowan asked quietly.

"Well, of the two of us **I**'m not the one who's keeping secrets from him- I did it once and it ended in a disaster, so I swore that I'm not gonna lie to him again. Trust is something precious but so damned fragile and easy to shatter."

"I know," she sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair. "I really wished things would be different but, alas, they ain't, and I can't give away more than I already have…"

"That's not enough."

"Damned Bill, I'm not doing this for fun! And ye're not the only one who cares about Jack- I don't want to endanger him either; I just want to get to bloody Port Royal. If it was only for the Jewel I would tell ye more, but it's not. It's far more complicated since there's someone else involved…"

"I hope ye're not complicating things and that this _someone_ involved does not turn out to be a lover of yers. Don't think that would sit too well with Jack."

"No! Absolutely not- blast, ye can't possibly believe I'd go that far!" Rowan sounded honestly offended that he could think that of her but she couldn't look him in the eyes either. Instead she stared at the dragon's head when suddenly she gasped with surprise. "Oh bugger, does the bloody beast really smile just like Jack?"

"Well, that's Mister Wu's mischievous interpretation of what he believes to be fun, but that's another story." Bill put a placatory hand on her shoulder. "Anyhow, I didn't mean to be offensive, Rowan. All I want is Jack to be a happy pirate, savvy? If ye have to keep secrets because of the safety of a friend it's alright to me though I don't like unexpected surprises."

9


	21. one morning in Port Royal

disclaimer: I don't own them but can I have them for x-mas??

Merry Christmas my hearties, I hope you like this chapter. The DVD was inspiring but Elisabeth fans will probably hate me- I don't think many of them are lurking here anyway.

Chapter 21- one morning in Port Royal

The Black Pearl was anchored in a small cove close to Port Royal but not in sight of the town. She had arrived long before dawn, her black shape melting with the darkness of the night, all lanterns extinguished. Now she lay there in total silence except for the waves caressing her hull. Jack always said that the gurgling, splashing sound reminded him of cheerful chuckling, as if the sea was pleased to give her more than just a fleeting touch.

The entrance to her hiding place had been a difficult one, especially at night, since there were some dangerous reefs and shallows, but then again she was captained by the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow; it was one of his many mysteries. Some said he could sail a ship through the eye of a needle if necessary, claiming that his bones were carved from the same strange dark wood the Pearl was made of, and that seawater was flowing in his veins instead of blood. Though that was definitely a tad far-fetched and merely based on the imagination of superstitious sailors, Mr Gibbs didn't like to hear these rumours at all, superstitious as he was. As a result, he kept on trying to hush people, believing it was bad luck to invent any new reasons for his captain's madness as if it wasn't hard enough to deal with a mad captain anyway. Then he'd turn around to take a surreptitious swig from his flask, his constant companion, to reassure himself that everything was alright aboard the Black Pearl.

While the sun began to rise in the east, still hidden behind the Blue Mountains, Rowan snuggled up to Jack. She had pondered it over and over whether to wake him or not, knowing that if she left without a word it would definitely be the end of their relationship. On the other hand there was something she had to find out but if she told him he'd probably start to ask questions she couldn't answer. She hated to keep secrets from the man she loved and yet she had to. _If only, if only, if only…_

Jack wrapped an arm around her and dragged her closer, still half asleep, languidly running his fingers through her hair, murmuring in a slurring voice, "Mhmpf, what's up, luv?"

"I gotta go now."

"Nah, not now… gimme just a few more minutes. It feels good when ye're so cuddly." He flipped her over and pressed his lips on hers, hungry for a kiss. And though she replied the kiss with the same devotion, he suddenly realized what she had said. His hands stopped unbuttoning her shirt as he sat up, sighing, to give her a frown. "What did ye mean with ye gotta go? Where d'ye wanna go anyway?"

Damned, she cursed silently, it would be harder than she had imagined. If only they hadn't kissed- although the kiss had been worth all the trouble. For the first time in months it had been more than an oversexed reaction giving vent to anger and frustration, so she regretted deeply that she couldn't stay and continue what they had started. But first things first, she had promised that and she would keep her promise.

"Jack, I'm sorry… but there's something I just have to find out. Please don't ask any questions."

He stared at her half exposed breasts- it was hard to argue with a pair of tits that almost screamed to be touched, caressed, devoured… tits that were made to fit in his hands so perfectly. Actually he didn't want to argue with her at all but to suck her erected nipples until she moaned with pleasure, begging for more, and more he would give her... Unfortunately she was buttoning up her shirt now so he turned his slightly distracted mind on what she had told him. Thinking it over he surprised her by casually saying, "Alright."

Rowan gave him a puzzled look. "Alright? Does that mean ye trust me although I can't tell ye more?"

"Sure, luv." Jack faked a smile, lying without even batting an eye; he was quite good at that. But how do you come to trust someone who's keeping secrets from you? Live through a mutiny and see how the word _trust_ becomes a lie, not completely erased from your vocabulary but almost, and exceptions merely proved the rule. He escorted her to the door, wished her luck and kissed her goodbye, glad to hear her reassuring him that she'd be back soon. He watched her leave, then he looked up to the afterdeck, knowing that Bootstrap was on guard, lurking in the shadows.

"Bill?"

"Aye?"

"Follow her."

-

_Port Royal, Governor's Mansion_.

Will Turner awoke before dawn like he always did; it was an old habit from the days when he had been a blacksmith's apprentice. He always had to heat the forge while Mr Brown slept it off, and he still liked to get up early. Careful not to wake his beautiful wife he rose from the bed and got dressed.

Elisabeth stirred in her sleep, missing the embrace of her husband. She opened her eyes to watch him dress and although she had seen that so often she couldn't help but admire his perfectly shaped body. He was such a handsome, strong man- the man she loved, the father of her children.

"Why are you up so early, darling?"

Will turned around to flash her a warm smile, thinking what a lucky man he was to call such a wonderful woman for his own. She was his dream come true and she looked absolutely stunning in the golden light of the new day. He hurried to kiss her gently.

"Go back to sleep, my love, I didn't want to wake you. Alas, there's work waiting for me and I want to get it done before it gets too hot."

"You work too much," she complained, even though she was proud of the reputation he had for making the finest swords in the whole Caribbean.

"I'm sorry, but I have to finish the sword for Governor Beaufort. He's waiting for it. "

"I know," she sighed, pouting slightly although she hadn't forgotten Lord Beaufort's kindness. After her father's cruel death, feeling shattered, mourning her loss, she also had had to fear that the new governor would drive them out of the house that had been her home for most of her life, but Lord Beaufort had willingly allowed them to stay as if he hadn't the heart to make them leave. He really was a generous man and a very pleasant person to live with. Actually she felt sorry for him that his family had decided to not accompany him to the Caribbean, and she was sure that he must miss his wife and daughters terribly. She couldn't imagine living a single day without her beloved husband since she already missed him when he merely went to work. "When will you be back, darling?"

Will kissed her again. "At lunch, as usual."

-

Bootstrap Bill knew that Rowan would most likely try to get to her ship, and he knew as well as she did where the Jewel Star made berth. He had talked it over with Jack, explaining the theory that had came to his mind years ago when he first had taken over the helm of the Jewel, surprised how much she reminded him of the Pearl. But then again both ships had been built by the same magician who had given them some sort of _personality- _they were like sisters,which had led to the conclusion that one would always _know _where the other one was. Then, he had wanted to use his knowledge to persuade Rowan to help Jack to get back his ship from Barbossa, but Santiago had figured him out and spoiled his plan. Fortunately, perhaps, because they couldn't have managed to deal with cursed, undead pirates like Barbossa anyway. Mayhap Santiago had saved them all from certain death by sending him to the monastery, locking him and his stupid plans away. In the end it had probably been a wise decision.

Though he didn't like the idea of spying on a friend, Rowan had left them no other chance to find out what secrets she was keeping from them. Why hadn't she simply told them where her bloody ship was so that they could have tried to get it back for her? Most certainly Jack would have come up with a mad but brilliant plan. What the hell was she up to?

After following her for a while, Bill froze in his tracks and hid behind a tree, cursing silently. There was an inn, and in front of that bloody inn some horses were tied. Blast, he had never taken it into consideration that Rowan could actually steal a horse to lose him. A horse. No decent pirate should be able to ride a bloody horse. He blamed that on Santiago's education and cursed the darn Spaniard. He would not make a fool of himself by trying to follow her example. After all, Jack had wanted him to follow her unobtrusively.

Bill mulled it over, feeling torn whether he should head into the same direction Rowan had disappeared to or to go back to the Pearl and give Jack a report. Since it was unlikely he could ever catch up with her he decided for the last- only to find out that Jack had left the Pearl shortly after him to go wherever. Of course the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow hadn't bothered to tell anyone. Sometimes he really hated calling this bastard his friend. He felt twice cheated.

-

Rowan hadn't noticed that Bill had been following her simply because she would have never expected that. She just didn't want to waste time with walking when riding was so much faster. A few minutes later she stopped the horse at a bay where a dark ship was anchored, her ship.

She shot the Jewel a longing glance, wishing she could commandeer her and sail away on her. But that would have to wait. First she had to find out for whom the bastard Belleri- or Smith, or whatever his name was- was working for. That was all that mattered at the moment.

Rowan knew the Jewel like the back of her hand, and she knew how she could get aboard unseen; there was a window through which she could slip into her cabin- or out of it. It had been sort of a game she had loved to play with Santiago since he had hated her amorous adventures, and what the eye doesn't see the heart doesn't grieve over.

Dangling at the Jewel's stern, Rowan gazed into her cabin and immediately saw Belleri- she had decided to continue calling him Belleri because he definitely looked more Italian than Englishman although he spoke without any accent. Also, he looked darn handsome; he reminded her of these marble statues of ancient Greek or Roman Gods Santiago had shown her while they had been travelling the Mediterranean. Alas, his beauty couldn't divert her from the fact that he was a damned bastard.

Belleri sat at her table, reading a letter. She reminded herself that she would have to clean her cabin thoroughly if ever she got the Jewel back or, even better, to throw away all the things his filthy hands had touched.

There was a knock on the door. He looked up; a man entered, handing him a piece of paper. Belleri dismissed him before he read the note. Apparently it was good news because he smiled brightly, and with a smile on his face he left the cabin.

This was Rowan's chance. She opened the window and slipped into her cabin. The note was still lying on the table, it read _Meet me at the mansion, it's urgent_. Was that by the man Belleri was working for? If so, she had to follow him. But before she wanted to check the letter he had been reading. Approaching footsteps stopped her from doing that and she had to look for a place to hide. Since it was her ship and her cabin this wasn't a problem.

Belleri re-entered the cabin, took the letter plus the note from the table and stored both in a box that he hid behind some books on the shelf. Then he left again without having noticed her.

Rowan waited for a moment to make sure he won't come back again, silently thanking Belleri for showing her his secret hiding place for suspicious letters. She opened the box, curious what she might find in there as she glanced over the papers. _Bello mio… sei il mio angelo… ti amo più di tutto_. Love letters. He hid bloody love letters. Rowan was a bit disappointed but she shoved the bundle of letters inside her shirt anyway. Mayhap she could read between the lines and learn something more interesting than that the bastard Belleri was loved by someone who was able to express his endless love in Italian; fortunately some parts had been in English.

She hurried to get ashore, mounted her horse and headed the same direction Belleri had disappeared to. The road led to Port Royal.

-

The forge was heated, the metal was glowing red; Will Turner raised his hammer to give the blade some heavy strokes. It was one of his best works so far but then again he used to say this with every sword he made, always improving his work. He was a perfectionist when it came to swords and he would never grow tired of forging them. It gave him satisfaction, self-esteem and pride. It also gave him a place in society that he had earned all by himself, one that he hadn't gained by marrying the governor's daughter. After all, he hadn't married Elisabeth for her position but for love, and he wanted to prove her as well as everyone else that he was very well able to make a living for his family. Meanwhile, all the people who had frowned upon their engagement had stopped gossiping since Will Turner had a reputation for making the finest swords in the Caribbean. And though he didn't have the time anymore to practice with them three hours a day he was also known to be an extremely talented fencer.

The temperature in the room increased, so Will took off his shirt, still working with great concentration when he suddenly felt being watched. He whirled around, the hammer in his hands. He didn't know whom he had expected to pay him a surprise visit but he almost breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was merely Governor Beaufort.

"Mylord," feeling kind of embarrassed he put the hammer down and faced his client with a wry smile, "I'm awfully sorry but your sword isn't finished yet, I…"

"Please," Beaufort cut him off, "dear William, I told you to call me Charles, didn't I? After all, we live under the same roof."

"Of course, I beg your pardon, Sir… um, Charles."

"No, no, I have to beg _your _pardon. I didn't want to startle you, and most certainly I do not want to push you. Take your time, William; take as much time as you need. I just hope you don't mind if I come here to see how you are proceeding. It is so interesting to watch you work; it seems like an art to me."

Will felt flattered. A craftsman was always pleased to hear his work was appreciated but none of his other customers showed as much interest as Lord Beaufort did. He came here often to watch him work and he would always listen attentively to whatever Will told him about the work of a blacksmith, of the best wood for the fire, the perfect temperature of the forge or the quality of the steel he used.

Of course Will Turner didn't know that a great part of Beaufort's interest was faked because it would have never came to his mind that he could visit him for more ambiguous reasons.

"No one has ever considered the work of a blacksmith as an art." Will cave to consider, "after all, it's a dirty job and it does require a certain amount of strength."

"Oh yes, definitely." Beaufort replied, scrutinizing the sweaty body of the young blacksmith all over. He was adorable, so strong and athletic, and so naïve. He didn't even know what kind of sexual fantasies the sight of him could arouse. Young William Turner was a fool to believe he had allowed him and his dreadful wife to stay in **his** house, the Governor's mansion, because he was a kind man. Definitely not. He had wanted to drive her and her spoiled kids out of his house, and he wouldn't have scrupled to do so despite of her recent loss… he couldn't have cared less. But then his eyes had fallen on Will and a sudden rush of desire had flashed through him, rendering him helpless and softhearted. He couldn't have possible thrown such a pretty specimen of mankind out of his house although it was hard for him to live under the same roof with an adorable young man and not being able to touch him. It was hard to see him with his wife, giving her adoring glances, kissing her; it was even harder to imagine them in bed together. He could give him so much more.

There had been times when Charles Beaufort had given no damn about what others wanted, when he had merely cared about his own needs, his own lust, taking whatever, whoever without regard of the losses. That was before he had met Angelo. Unfortunately, his beloved angel couldn't be around as often as he wished, especially not since he shared his house with the lovely Turner family.

The church bell rang. Beaufort took out a watch from his pocket to check the time. Great, he had stimulated his appetite by watching Will, he had fed his lust- now it was time to go to eat He apologized for having to leave, pretending to have a very important meeting which wasn't even a lie.

-

Jack had just moored his longboat when the harbourmaster walked up to him.

"It is a shilling to tie up your boat to the dock," he said in the snobbish, slightly bored tone of people who considered themselves superior over others, "and I do need to know" He broke off when he recognized Jack, beaming, "Oh, it's three shillings for you, Mr Smith, as usual."

"Me name's not Smith." Jack swayed a little as he turned around to look at his boat. This time he had not sunken it so the harbourmaster's request seemed reasonable to him. Nevertheless he didn't like the name Smith any longer. He placed two fingers at his chin, thinking it over. Then he shot the man a golden smile. "Me name's Sparrow."

"Of course, Mr Smith. Three shillings please."

"What say ye to four shillings and me name's Miller this time?" Jack offered.

The corrupt, greedy fellow agreed instantly. "Welcome to Port Royal, Mr Miller."

Jack sketched a bow in order to thank him before he walked off and didn't forget to pinch the harbourmaster's purse, as usual.

He had pondered it over many times where to go in the first place to settle his discrepancies with the young Turners since it nagged him more than he would ever admit that Will and Elisabeth could actually believe he was capable of committing a cold-blooded murder. They should know him better and not believe all those lies. Well, Will had the nasty habit of being too rash, too prejudiced, but Elisabeth would probably listen to him. He wanted to let her know that he had nothing to do with her father's death, so he walked up the road to the Governor's mansion. It should have surprised him to find out that they still lived there, now that there was a new governor in town, and yet he didn't waste any thought on it

Jack entered the mansion through the servant's entrance like he always did, even in times when he had been a welcome visitor. But he was a pirate, an outsider of society, and as a pirate he had never liked the idea of having a servant opening the door for him, announcing his arrival. He preferred to come and go unseen.

Elisabeth was startled to hear his velvet slur, and she turned around shocked to see him standing in her room, in her house, clearly not having expected him to be so bold as to ever come back here again, not after what he had done.

"Jack," she breathed, backing away from him, before she continued with a firmer voice. "Don't come closer or I scream."

"Lizzie," Jack raised his hands in a defensive gesture, "I'm not here to harm ye, luv. Listen to me for a minute before ye start screaming, eh? First of all- I. Did. **Not.** Kill your father."

"Not?" She had the decency to look puzzled as if she would at least try to reconsider her opinion about him. The shadow of a doubt flashed across her face. "But the evidences, your hat and your pistol…"

"A hat is not likely to be considered as a deadly weapon and a pistol needs a hand to hold it and shoot it but at the time in question my hands were in Lima, pinching a ring from the bishop's fat little fingers which leads to the conclusion that I can't have shot yer dear daddy. Despite my outstanding reputation it's hard for me to be in two different places at the same time."

"Who was it then?"

"Think 'bout it, luv- who took advantage of good ol' Weatherby Swann's demise and popped up just in time to claim the vacant position as Port Royal's new Governor…"

"No," Elisabeth hissed. She had almost started to believe Jack but his untenable accusations were intolerable, "you despicable pirate, you cannot possibly think Lord Beaufort capable of committing such a horrible crime! He's a kind man, a gentleman…"

"Well, I didn't say he dirtied his own hands, did I?"

Elisabeth slapped him hard across the face and she even would have slapped him twice if he hadn't been faster; Jack grabbed her hand in midair. "Now, now, that's not very nice, Lizzie."

"It's Mrs Turner to you!"

Although she was close to a dangerous, infamous pirate she didn't show any fear but glared at him with defiance. She knew he wouldn't hurt her because he was without doubt attracted by her like a part of her was secretly attracted by him; she knew it by the way he looked at her, smiling slightly, admiring her beauty, her courage, her fierce temper. Then he just let go off her.

"Well, _Mrs Turner_, " he said in a mocking tone, "if ye loathe to hear the truth 'bout Randy Charly I won't disturb ye any longer. I'd be much obliged though if ye were so kind as to hand me back me effects; me hat and me pistol please."

That moment she really hated him and his cocksure ways. So he had the nerve to accuse her of loathing to hear the truth while he was about to run away instead of facing the charges against him, clearly not being interested in proving his innocence.

"I'll fetch them for you," Elisabeth offered, smiling sweetly at Jack although what she had in mind instead was to give him a chance to prove that he was a good man. She quickly left the room and locked the door.

-

Rowan had almost lost Belleri in the streets of Port Royal but then she saw his horse trotting up the road to the Governor's mansion. She took up pursuit again and noticed that he didn't enter the estate through the main gate like an official visitor would have done. Instead, he followed a small path that led along the wall surrounding the estate, until he reached a gate. There he dismounted and tied up his horse on a mango tree.

Rowan waited a few minutes before following him through the gate, entering the garden of the mansion. She hoped he wasn't just here to have a romantic date between rose bushes because that would really suck, a complete waste of time. But fortunately he headed straight towards the house which gave room for more interesting speculations. If he wanted to meet the Governor why was he stealing himself through the garden? That could mean he was on sort of secret mission and didn't want to be seen- or he was having an affair with one of the maids working in the mansion. She sighed, not happy that her thoughts kept on running in circles. No, she decided, a maid was ruled out since she couldn't write glowing love letters half in Italian, and besides, it was probably too much below Belleri to have an affair with a simple maid. So perhaps a noblewoman, the Governor's wife or daughter? Damned, she really hoped it was more than this he had come here for; she **needed** to know who was behind his evil deeds, who had instructed him, paid him.

Belleri slipped into the house through a back door but Rowan didn't want to follow him inside so she was back to spying through windows. The first few rooms she looked into were empty except for a servant polishing the silver. In the next room she saw two children with their nanny. Rowan was surprised to recognise the girl as Lydia, the Turner's spoiled daughter. Now that was interesting- so Will and Elisabeth were still living here although there was a new Governor in Port Royal? Once again the thoughts were spinning in her head, returning to the question with whom Belleri was having an affair. Elisabeth? She should have checked the name the letters were signed with but she had missed that and now there was no time for it. It was hard to imagine Elisabeth betraying her beloved Will but then again she liked dark, handsome men, and Belleri was a darn handsome devil. Just like Will- and Jack. Rowan was well aware of the fact that Elisabeth fancied Jack to a certain extend, she had seen the way she glanced at him when she thought no one noticed. Although, it wasn't really Jack himself she fancied, more the romantic, idolized idea she had of pirates, the pirates she had read about in her books. To her piracy was only exciting if the pirates behaved decently, morally faultless, didn't drink rum and took a bath… but it didn't get into her head that you don't waste valuable drinking water for personal hygiene when you're in the middle of the ocean; she was just a rich little bitch who wanted to play pirate.

Rowan walked on without discovering anything of significance until she came to the servants wing, a number of almost claustrophobic small chambers furnished with two or three plain beds and hardly any space to move. Here, the windows were unglazed since glass was expensive; wooden shutters kept off the heat of the day. Unfortunately, these shutters also kept Rowan from looking into the rooms, so she was about to give up when she suddenly heard a low voice murmuring something unintelligible, suppressed groaning, heavy breathing. She moved closer to the window. The shutter was half open so that she could spy into the room- and she swore she'd shoot them if she merely saw two copulating servants.

She didn't. Instead she was greeted with a more pleasant sight, the naked backside of a god. Alright, it's wasn't really a god but a divine looking man, Antonio Belleri. How could such a mean bastard look so goddamned good? Though she definitely loved Jack, she couldn't help but admire his perfect body and she almost envied the one he kissed with passionate ferocity. Who was she? Rowan could only see a few wisps of blonde hair and strong hands trailing down Belleri's back, grabbing his bottom tightly, dragging him closer. This was really hot! There was something weird about these hands but it was nevertheless absolutely hot.

"Oh Angelo, _bello mio_," the blonde one groaned with a voice hoarse of arousal, and it wasn't what you would call a typical female voice.

"Oh Mylord!" Belleri breathed in response, "I missed you so much… take me now… please take me hard."

Suddenly the scales fell from Rowan's eyes. So that was the reason why she hadn't managed to seduce Belleri in Bombay- it hadn't been her in particular that he had rejected her but because he simply preferred men. She called herself a stupid git since that idea had never crossed her mind, and she definitely wasn't that green when it came to sexual practices. Nevertheless she had to sit down now, confused for a moment and unsure whether she really wanted to watch this, them. Leaning her back against the wall she tried to rearrange her thoughts. So apparently Belleri's secret lover was a man. Well, she wouldn't condemn him for that- there were other things, more relevant ones to condemn him for- and besides, her motto was to love as you will, as long as both agreed. But who was he? She had a suspicion, and she didn't like it at all.

A knock at the door startled her and she jumped up to see Belleri and his lover drift apart.

"Lord Beaufort? I beg your pardon, Sir, but I assume you might want to know that Sparrow is here, in this mansion."

Bloody hell, Rowan thought, so she had suspected right and this man was really Charles Beaufort, the new governor of Port Royal… Randy Charly, as Jack and Bill called him. She didn't know what she had expected him to look like- perhaps more like a fat old fart chasing innocent boys and less like a man still attractive for his age; his body was in a peak condition (well, you have to look after yourself if you want to screw a god)- but she definitely didn't like the idea of Jack being anywhere around this fellow.

"Sparrow? Lock all the doors, I'm coming!" Beaufort hastily rearranged his clothes to show no treacherous signs of his secret encounter, then he headed to a closet- not to the door. Before he vanished in there, he turned around to roughly kiss Belleri goodbye. "I'm so sorry, Angelo _mio amore_- but finally, ah finally… scamper now, and meet me at the front door just in case I might need the help of a certain Captain Smith. Be careful though."

"I will."

Lord Beaufort sighed, "Ah, I just can't wait to see this damnable pirate swinging from the gallows."

Rowan had heard enough. She cursed Jack for being so daft to walk right into the lion's den without considering the dangers, but it would be pointless to try and warn him because it was unlikely that she'd find him in time. Also, he probably had some sort of plan… and she couldn't blame him for not telling her when of the two of them _she_ was the one who kept secrets in the first place.

Feeling a bit torn about what to do next she decided that Jack could do quite well without her-after all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow, the man who had sacked Nassau Port and vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company; he could handle any situation. Rowan, however, didn't want to risk the life of someone who was not so lucky to have such a reputation, such dubious skills, and she knew it would probably spoil her plan if Belleri discovered two horses where he had tied up just one. So she'd better scamper now and cover her tracks because she didn't want him to know he was being observed; she wanted to lull him into a false sense of security. And she had to find the intermediary for sending messages to McCoy… she needed him now. Finally, all the all the pieces of the puzzle seemed to fit together.

Rowan scurried through the garden and reached the horses before Belleri could, then she rode back to town in search for a tavern called The Blue Anchor.

-

Being locked in a room was probably not so bad as it seemed given that said room was in the same house Randy Charly lived in; it almost gave Jack a feeling of security. On the other hand he knew that Elisabeth was most likely trying to cheat him- he had seen it in the way her eyes had changed, growing cold and calculating, not reflecting her sweet smile. Ah, the bittersweet smile of betrayal… she couldn't fool him though. He knew she would rather fetch her dear friend Beaufort than his hat and pistol, so it was time to take a leave. Jack arched a brow at the door wondering whether he should pick the lock or simply vanish through the window; he chose the window. Why did she believe she could keep a sparrow in a room with unbarred windows? Stupid wench.

He landed in bed of roses. The thorns stung, but not as bad as her attempt to backstab him. Nevertheless Jack shrugged it off as indifferently as he brushed off the rose petals from his clothes, pretending not to care. After all, she had merely done what seemed to be alright for her, nothing's wrong with that; he couldn't expect more. He made his way to Will's smithy knowing that this wasn't a wise decision either, but well, he still had a soft spot for the whelp.

William Turner junior definitely held no love for pirates, that he made unmistakably clear as soon as Jack entered the blacksmith's forge.

"Charles, is that you? Your sword is ready."

"I swear, Will, it'll do ye no good to be overly familiar with Randy Charly," Jack chided him in a teasing tone.

"Jack Sparrow, you bloody bastard!" Will whirled around, the sword in his hands. Without hesitation he attacked the pirate, taking him by surprise.

Jack stumbled backwards, seeking cover. Though he had not expected to get a warm welcome he hadn't expected such a hostile attitude either. He unsheathed his own sword. It wasn't his intention to harm Will but he had to defend himself.

"D'ye think it's wise boy, crossing blades with a pirate?"

In response Will launched another attack at him. Jack parried it and they exchanged a series of quick blows, their blades flashing and ringing. It was obvious that Will had improved his skills since they had fought in Mr Brown's old smithy.

"Blast, ye shouldn't have that much time to practice with these fancy swords ye're making, now that ye're a married man," Jack gasped, having trouble to match Will. "Doesn't Lizzie let ye do it?"

It wasn't wise to infuriate Will even more than he already was, as Jack soon learned. The next blow came with such a brutal strength that it shook his arm from the fingers to his shoulders, rendering it numb for a moment. He lost his sword.

"The reason why I'm still practicing every day is to protect my family from despicable pirates like you!" Will hissed contemptuously as he knocked the pirate to the ground.

Jack managed to roll over before the whelp could hack him into pieces. He tried to grab for the hilt of his sword but Will kicked it out of reach while at the same time stepping at his hand. Jack hauled up his leg and flung it in the hollow of Will's knees, sending him to the floor, then he jumped to his feet. Hastily he increased the distance. This wasn't even half as much fun as his first encounter with the young Mr Turner.

Will beat him in reaching the door, and now he was armed with two swords, driving Jack backwards to the furnace. Frantically he groped for a weapon, any weapon, when his fingers got hold of a hammer. He threw it at Will who, out of reflex, tried to fend it off by raising his sword. The force of the impact disarmed him even though he still had one sword left. Jack picked up the dropped blade when suddenly he noticed his hat lying on Will's workbench.

"Oh, mightily kind of ye, mate, taking care of me hat while I was away."

He reached for it but Will snatched the hat from his hands and flung it into the furnace. Jack yelped and hurried to save it from the burning fire; unfortunately it was way too hot so he drew back his hand.

"Being kind was **not **my intention!" Will snarled as he grabbed the pirate by the collar in an attempt to shove him completely into the furnace.

Jack panicked when he smelled burned hair and he started to hit and kick out wildly all around him. No, this really wasn't fun anymore. Somehow he must have hit the whelp hard because he finally let go off him. Jack scampered to get away when he heard the familiar sound of a pistol being cocked. He turned around to stare in disbelief at Will who actually had the nerve to threaten him with his very own pistol.

"This shot is meant for you!"

Jack raised his hands and shrugged. "Yer funeral… shoot me if ye want but I mightily doubt that this will help ye to gain yer daddy's affection."

He knew he had hit a sore point, he could tell it by the look on Will's face. So the real reason for his entire wrath was based on the fact that Bill had decided to go pirating with him, leaving his son once again. Yet, he had no time to ponder it over. Although Will chose to not shoot Jack he flung himself at the pirate with an angry roar. They crashed through a window and onto the street.

Will caught himself sooner than Jack; he grabbed him by the throat and pressed him hard against the wall of the smithy.

"Shut your bloody mouth!"

Jack was clearly not in a position to say anything, he couldn't even breathe. Will held him in a vice-like grip, constantly increasing the pressure on his throat as if he wanted to crush it. His vision blurred. Damned, that was definitely not the way he had wanted to die, throttled by an unreasonably jealous blacksmith. But he was outmanoeuvred and the lack of air made it hard for him to think properly; he saw stars flashing up in front of his eyes.

Suddenly he heard a familiar voice barking forcefully, "Let go of him! Immediately!"

"What if I don't?" Will sneered as he increased the pressure on Jack's throat once more. "Will you shoot me then, father?"

"Don't risk it!"

The sound of a pistol being cocked told him that Bootstrap Bill was damned serious about his request and would probably stop at nothing, so he finally let go of Jack, who collapsed at his feet, coughing, gasping heavily for breath. It was funny that even a legend could look small and vulnerable. Will kicked out at him contemptuously.

Bill pushed aside his son and stepped between him and Jack, the pistol still in his hands, still aiming at Will. "I don't want to shoot ye- but harm a hair of his head and I might feel tempted."

"You seem to have forgotten where you belong, father."

"I know exactly where I belong, that's why I'm here, standing between you and Jack." Bill didn't dare to take his eyes off Will in order to see how Jack was faring but all the coughing and gasping didn't sound too well. "Easy, mate," he told him gently, "try to breathe slowly…"

"You always cared more about Jack than about me, your own flesh and blood!" Will accused him furiously foaming.

"Honestly, William, don't ye think that yer jealousy is a tad out of place here? I do care 'bout ye as much as ye care 'bout me, but Jack is me friend and I won't let ye kill him. He's like a brother to me."

"Aye," Jack rasped as he came stumbling to his feet, using Bill as a support for his slightly battered state, "unrelated brothers… ye don't 'ave to call me Uncle Jack."

Bill smiled wryly. So Jack was alright and hadn't lost his humour. Good. Will, however, shot him a look that could kill.

"Despicable pirates," he snarled, "peas in a pot you are- have you forgotten all that I did for you, father? I asked Governor Swann to grant you clemency and he gave you a full pardon for all your crimes committed in the name of piracy so that you could live with us, your family. We gave you a home, Elisabeth and I, and yet you prefer him over me?"

"Yep." It was just a single word that slipped over Bill's lips, unintentionally, although it was the truth. He knew that it wasn't fair but then again it wasn't in the nature of truth to be fair.

"I truly loathe you, _father_." Will spat out the last as if it was something vulgar, a swear word, and though he had addressed Bill, he still blamed Jack for all the things that had gone wrong in his youth, glaring daggers at him.

"Well, I can live with yer loathing, but I can't" Bill bit his tongue before he could say anything that would hurt his son even more, and he also stopped Jack from having his say by stretching out his arm in order to keep him in the background, safely behind him. The sound of approaching footsteps, the footsteps of redcoats roaming the town in search for an infamous pirate captain, spared him from continuing this unfortunate conversation. He turned his head slightly towards Jack. "I'd say we ought to take a leave now."

"Aye." Jack nodded. Though he could finally breathe again his throat still felt as sore as if he had gargled with razorblades; he could hardly swallow and speaking was even worse. He really longed for a drink. Alas, that would have to wait.

Bill grabbed his arm and dragged him along while at the same time keeping a sharp eye on Will, not trusting him to let them vanish that easily. And he was right since Will didn't hesitate to give them away as soon as there was no longer a pistol pointed at him.

"Hold the pirates!" He shouted before he called for his friend, Commodore Richard Morrison. "Rich, they're here, hurry!"

Jack and Bill ran along the streets of Port Royal, followed by a group of soldiers. They were heading for the docks but then they took the wrong turn. Jack froze in his tracks when he noticed that they were in a blind alley… and the redcoats were hard on their heels.

"Oh bugger!" He cursed the town for having changed that much since the earthquake.

"No, don't worry. C'mon." Bill said encouraging as he led him to a small house.

A little bell jingled when he opened the door and entered a dim room that smelled of herbs mixed with another scent. There were dried herbs hanging from the ceiling while others were stored in glasses crammed in huge shelves; the glasses were labelled but Jack couldn't read what was written on then, and after taking a closer look he didn't even want to know. Not all of them contained herbs. In one glass were some chicken claws and in another something that looked like tiny ears. Grimacing he turned to Bill when he saw this _thing_ dangling in front of his nose.

"Is that really a dried bat?"

"Aye. She also sells pulverized elephant testicles- not that I'd need it."

"Why should someone need… oh, sure, big and strong." Jack coughed; his voice still sounded hoarse. "Who's _she_?"

Bill walked behind the counter and to the backroom of this weird drug store, where a very old lady sat, smoking a pipe.

"Madame Sing."

"Great, I can always trust ye to find a slant eye."

Bill exchanged a few words in Chinese with the old lady, then he turned to Jack again. "She says she feels honoured to let us escape through her backyard."

Jack put his hands together and sketched a bow to emphasise his gratitude. Madame Sing flashed him a toothless grin while exhaling sweet smelling rings of smoke. He remembered the scent, it was opium.

Suddenly she rose, staring at Jack's throat. Murmuring something unintelligible she gestured him to wait, shuffled to the front room, rummaged through the shelves and came back with a small bag of medicine which the handed Jack. He didn't know whether to be grateful for this dubious gift or not.

"Ask her if it contains any private parts of dead animals," he whispered to Bill but his friend just chuckled and reminded him that it was time to leave.

They scampered through the backyard and climbed over a fence into the garden of another house from where they reached an alley leading to the docks. The whole town was up in arms, teeming with soldiers on patrol. It didn't take long until some redcoat spotted the two pirates.

Jack reached for his sword and had to notice that he must have lost it during the fierce encounter with Will, so he took Bill's, while Bill unceremoniously stopped the soldier from giving them away with a quick karate chop. Jack shrugged, tossing back the sword to his friend and helping himself to that of the unconscious fellow.

It seemed almost impossible to reach the docks since there were soldiers everywhere, in every street that led to the waterfront, and though they managed to escape most of the patrols, their luck didn't last forever. At a square close to the docks their pursuers caught up with them, circling them in from every direction. They were trapped. The soldiers outnumbered them by approximately twenty to one and they seemed to be highly motivated to seize the two pirates.

Though Jack would always chose negotiating over fighting he knew that he couldn't talk himself out of it this time, and he definitely did not want to become Beaufort's prisoner. The mere idea of it sent shivers down his spine.

Suddenly he heard the clatter of hooves on cobbled stones and a horse appeared in full gallop, racing through the crowd of soldiers, causing chaos amongst them. Jack grinned proudly.

"Ah, that's me woman."

Rowan reined in her horse and jump off the saddle, shooing the horse away. "'ello boys."

"Hold the pirates!" Commodore Morrison's voice rang over the tumult, calling his soldiers back in line.

They headed towards the pier where Jack had moored his longboat, followed by a crowd of redcoats. But before they could reach it the way was blocked by a very grim looking Will Turner. He had figured out where Jack would go and he seemed seriously determined to stop him, aiming his blade at him.

"I won't let you pass and escape justice."

Jack, Bill and Rowan unsheathed their swords simultaneously. Behind them the soldiers were getting closer.

"My, what's wrong with the whelp? Does he really think he can stop **us**?" Rowan murmured puzzled.

"He's a tad pissed off… that's why 'is mind might be slightly clouded."

"Ye sound horrible, darling."

That very moment a carriage arrived and Beaufort got out of it, looking around. His lips twitched, curling up to a malicious smile when he spotted Captain Jack Sparrow trapped. He rubbed his hands. The soldiers were waiting for his orders.

Jack became visibly nervous, whispering. "Oh bugger, bugger, bugger… we could use a"

"Will!" Elisabeth shrieked as she left the carriage although Lord Beaufort had strictly ordered her to stay inside. But she couldn't sit back and wait when she had to see that her beloved husband was threatened by three pirates.

"A hostage," Bill completed Jack's sentence, "a sort of leverage…"

The three pirates exchanged quick glances, knowing what they had to do. When Elisabeth came running for Will, Bill blocked her way and chased her in Rowan's direction who grabbed her by the arm, hurling her towards Jack. Using her as a shield he pressed his pistol at her temple. He had to admit that this scene was somehow familiar to him and not quite as unique as he might have wished, but on the other hand this old trick still worked tremendously well. The whole incident had taken merely a few seconds, but when Jack cocked his pistol it sounded unusually loud. He noticed that the soldiers had gone absolutely quiet, insecurely staring from Beaufort, who had given order to open fire just before the pirates had caught Elisabeth, to Commodore Morrison, who immediately barked, "Hold the fire!"

_Don't mind the bitch, open fire_, Lord Beaufort thought but then he glanced at young William Turner and changed his mind, blaming it on his soft heart. Although he didn't give a damn about Mrs Turner he simply didn't have the heart to see pretty Will grief-stricken, mourning the loss of his wife. Tears wouldn't look good on such a handsome face. So he confirmed Morrison's order in repeating it. "Hold the fire!"

The chances had improved for Jack and his friends. Taking hold of a very unladylike cursing Elisabeth between them they passed Will, who had of course lowered his blade. There was glowing hatred in his eyes when he looked at Jack.

"I promise I won't harm her," the pirate hurried to offer but Will cut him off.

"Sparrow, I swear I will hunt you down and kill you- no matter where in the world you're trying to hide, I will find you."

"Calm down, William, we're not intending to harm yer wife. We just wanna get away from here safely, and then we'll let her go."

Will glared at his father. "You're making a big mistake, sticking with him," he spat out at Jack, "he doesn't care half as much about you as you care about him; sooner or later he will let you down because the only person _Captain_ Jack Sparrow has ever cared about is himself."

Jack wanted to say something but Bill beat him to it. "Believe what ye want and now excuse us please; we gotta go."

"Will!" Elisabeth gasped desperately when Bill shoved her forward and Jack dragged her along with him, heading for the longboat.

"Elisabeth!" Will shouted, sounding as frantic as if he would never see her again although the pirates had merely intended to keep her hostage until they were safely out of Port Royal. He felt so helpless; there was nothing he could do to stop the bloody pirates from abducting Elisabeth without risking her life. His helplessness turned into frustration and then into anger. "I don't have a father anymore! Do you hear that, William Turner? You are the biggest disappointment of my life! I truly despise you! You, and your pirate _brother_, and his red-haired whore- I will kill you all!"

Commodore Richard Morrison appeared behind Will and put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "Calm down, please. I know how hard this is for you, but listen and believe me that we will do everything possible to bring back your wife. I have already given orders to get the Dauntless ready to sail"

"I want to come along." Will interrupted him. "I **have **to come along. You cannot expect me to stay behind and wait."

"Of course," Morrison agreed. "You are always welcome to join me aboard the Dauntless."

Will breathed a sigh of relief. Unlike Commodore Norrington, Rich did not try to remind him of his place, like pointing out that he was neither a sailor nor a soldier but merely a blacksmith; unlike Norrington he was a real friend who understood his need to save the woman he loved more than his life.

At the same time Lord Beaufort held a secret conversation in his carriage, talking over his plan with a certain Captain Smith, his favourite choice for solving difficult situations that required more specific efforts than just blindly abiding the laws. Actually he was a man who liked the bend the laws in order to set up his own.

Circling an arm around his companion's waist he breathed into his ear. "You know what you have to do, don't you _mio bello_?"

"Aye, Mylord. I will put out to sea immediately, bring you the head of this damnable pirate and I certainly won't waste a thought about the well-being of that wench called Mrs Turner."

"Very well," Beaufort leant in closer to take claim of Captain Smith's lips, kissing him passionately. "Oh Angelo,_ mio Angelo… _hurry now and come back soon, I already miss you."

Meanwhile the pirates had reached their longboat and boarded it. Elisabeth protested constantly about having to accompany them and no one really wanted her to come along, but alas, Bill was right when he pointed out that the cannons of Fort Charles would probably blast them if they didn't keep her a little longer.

"You promised to let me go when you're safe." She complained, pouting, addressing Jack who rolled his eyes heavenwards before he glanced at his feet and then over his shoulder.

"We're not safe yet."

Bill picked up the oars and started rowing, assisted by Rowan. She was already quite fed up with Elisabeth bitching all the time.

"Did ye have a nice time in Port Royal, luv?" Jack asked her, completely ignoring Elisabeth ranting and raving.

"Aye, darling. At least I had a better time than you, as it seems." Rowan replied sweetly.

"Did ye succeed in finding out what ye intended to find out even though ye obviously can't tell me what ye found out if ye did?" Jack looked at Bill in a silent question, but Bill just shook his head. He had almost thought so. They still didn't know what secrets Rowan was keeping, and she only admitted that she had been quite successful. Probably she would have given away more if Elisabeth hadn't tried to get on everybody's nerve.

"Oh shut up, will ye," she hissed at Elisabeth, wishing for something to gag her with. Then she noticed that they were finally out of range of Port Royal's cannons. "As it seems we're safe now. D'ye wanna get off? I'm sure the sea's pretty warm today…"

Elisabeth shot her an indignant glance. "You are disgusting. Don't think that just because you are a woman justice will spare you the noose. You will be swinging from the gallows next to Jack when the Royal Army gets hold of you."

"Ah, Lizzie, ye're forgetting a very important thing, luv- there's no getting hold of Captain Jack Sparrow."

"You could prove you're a good man and let me go."

Jack looked around. "Do we have a parrot here or is she just not getting it?"

"Sail ho! Man over board!" Parrot screeched a cheerful welcome from the yardarm as the longboat came alongside the Black Pearl.

Mr Gibbs was glad to see his captain back but he blanched a bit when he saw Elisabeth, although he greeted her politely.

"Capt'n, it's frightful bad luck"

"I know." Jack wasn't happy about Elisabeth's presence either but the Dauntless was leaving port so she was to stay with them a little longer. The Dauntless would not give them a broadside knowing that Mrs Elisabeth Turner was aboard.

"ALL hands on…" he started coughing, his voice had broken down. Mr Gibbs patted his back but that didn't improve his voice. "Alright, ye give the orders, ye know what has to be done with the sails and all that stuff. I'm in me cabin drinking Chinese tea with testicles and other parts of dead animals."

Jack handed the small bag Madame Sing had given him to a passing pirate and instructed him to boil him a tea before his aching throat killed him. Bloody whelp- he didn't mind being attacked, offended, almost throttled and all that but being forced to willingly drink tea was too much; he wouldn't forgive Will for that. On the other hand it troubled him how things had turned out between father and son.

Bill entered the cabin, bringing him a steaming pot of tea. Jack gave it a suspicious glance.

"How well d'ye know Madame Sing?"

"Well enough to know she won't poison ye."

"That's not what I wanted to know."

"I hope ye're not indicating I could have…"

"Nah, I was just wondering 'bout dragons- or, to be more precisely, chasing them."

"Oh," Bill didn't pretend to not know what Jack was about, and he didn't lie either. But he blushed a little when he admitted it. "'twas me only escape from the boredom of a conservative life; sweet opium dreams to bear narrow-minded intolerance."

Jack shrugged, and changed the topic. "Well, 'bout yer son, ye shouldn't"

"Blast!" Bill cut him off in a furious tone. "If ye're trying to tell me I'm a miserable father- forget it! I bloody know that."

Jack backed away, grimacing and protecting his throat. "Don't throttle me…"

"Sorry," Bill slumped into a chair and buried his head in his hands, rubbing his temples. "I didn't want to shout at ye. Ye're not to blame. I made my decision a long time ago; I did choose a life at sea with ye over Will and saying anything else would merely taste like a lie. I tried to live with him and started chasing the dragon again." He rose from his chair and fetched a half full bottle of rum, pouring a glass for Jack. "Here, for medical reasons."

Jack gulped down the rum before he greedily begged for a refill, but Bill had already finished the bottle. He arched a quizzical brow at his friend. "And what was that for?"

"Medical reasons. Out of the two of us I'm the doc, so I'm also the one who decides upon the dose. And I just needed that."

Elisabeth was sitting on the stairs leading to the afterdeck when Jack left his cabin. He sighed and prepared himself for trouble.

"Jack, I always thought that I could trust you, that we're friends…"

"Ah, so that's the reason ye locked me in that room, because we're such dear friends ye never wanted to lemme go again."

"I wanted you to do the right thing. You said you didn't kill my father so I wanted to give you a chance to prove it, to show you're a good man."

"A chance? By locking me in?" Jack put a finger to his chin as if he was thinking hard. "Strange, that reminds me of the chances the Royal Navy gives a young man to become a good sailor by press-ganging him into service."

"Ha, you have the nerve to question the methods of the Royal Navy- honourable men who protect our King and country - but you don't scruple to abduct a mother of two children?"

"When did I… oh, um… Lizzie, dearie, I already told ye- repeatedly- that I merely needed yer help to get out of Port Royal safely. Savvy? Since we're such good friends ye should be inclined to acquiesce in my request."

"You bloody pirate! You abducted me, you threatened my life and that of my husband, you refuse to let me go..."

Jack breathed a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes. _So we're back to **that** again_, he thought enervated, looking for Mr Cotton's parrot. The macaw sat on the rail, cocking his head. "Parrot, would ye please be so kind and tell Mrs Turner what I just told her."

"Walk the plank," the bird screeched.

"Great." That reminded him of Rowan's suggestion. "Guess the sea's still pretty warm."

He turned his back on Elisabeth but she wasn't done with him yet. She jumped to her feet and stopped him from walking away. "You're despicable. You lack any sense of honour and decency, you only think about yourself and act on selfish impulse. I give you the chance to do the right thing but you chose to ignore it. Why is it so horrible for you to show you're a good man? Do you fear that doesn't coincide with your infamous reputation? Now don't be so selfish and think about Lydia and little Willie. Do you really have the heart to rob them of their mother? I want you to want to do the right thing and let me go free. Take me back ashore."

Gibbs was right- having a woman aboard was definitely frightful bad luck; Jack could underline that. Especially if said woman wasn't getting what he was about or refused to understand him. Her condescending way of treating him, of talking about honour and what a good man should do as if she knew it all pissed him off tremendously, and he was really fed up with repeating the same things over and over again. He absolutely had no intention to keep her aboard longer than necessary and of course he would let her go free as soon as possible. Also he didn't agree that trying to survive was acting on selfish impulse. But since there simply was no reasoning with her he just shot her his trademark smile and said in a low voice, "Well, persuade me, luv."

Jack didn't know what he had expected. Actually he didn't care at all as long as he didn't have to keep on talking- so much especially about accusing him of having threatened her beloved Will since the whelp had definitely left his mark on him and not vice versa. But he sure was more than just a bit surprised when Elisabeth suddenly started smiling at him, fluttering her lashes. Did she really give him flirtatious glances? Well, anyway, this was better than her bitching.

"Jack, please…" she breathed, moving closer, "don't you want to know what it feels like to be a good man, to be admired or even loved. Do you want to know what it _tastes_ like?"

He could have replied that he knew it but then again he was just a man, a pirate, and she was definitely flirting with him. It didn't leave him cold. She turned him on and he wanted to know how far she would go to persuade him.

Elisabeth flung her arms around his neck, taking him by surprise when she pressed her lips on his. Well, he didn't mind a little kiss. He let it happen, knowing that hardly any woman could resist the charm of Captain Jack Sparrow. Then she tried to devour him and the kiss began to taste foul, deceitful, manipulative. He stepped backwards and she followed him without breaking the kiss… actually it was more like her forcing him to step backwards… What was she up to? Ten steps to the main mast; he knew his ship innately, every plank, every rope… _one, two, three…_ Her hands were at his belt, fumbling. Unless she didn't want to tear down his breeches in order to have a public shag with him right here and now on the Pearl's planks, entertaining the whole crew- unlikely- she was up to something else… _four, five_… someone should tell the lass there were more erotic ways of kissing than trying to devour the one you're kissing. Mayhap Will was really an eunuch and she was betraying him… _six, seven_… now he had figured her out… _eight, nine_… he broke the kiss and whirled her around while at the same time he knocked his pistol out of her hand, shoving her against the mast. A mere second later the shackles hanging from it, shackles he had never made use of because he had sworn that there would never be any floggings aboard the Black Pearl, clicked. Elisabeth yelped astonished.

"Ne'er thought o' that, aye luv? Ye honestly must have believed I'd be daft enough to be taken in by a trick I invented years ago. Next time ye wanna cheat me ye'll have to do better than that."

Jack walked away, leaving Elisabeth frantically rattling at the chains, fuming with anger and frustration.

"Bloody pirate! You dirty, unwashed, rum-soaked, wobbly-legged **_pirate_**! You will never know what it's like to be a good man."

He just shrugged it off, casually waving at her, and stepped up the stairs to the afterdeck- where he bumped into Rowan. Given the look on her face she must have watched Elisabeth kissing him. Bugger, bugger, bugger! Although things weren't going too well between them lately he still loved her, and he had definitely not intended to hurt her. He looked around for Bill, looking for support, but his friend just shot him a cross glance that seemed to say 'ye've made yer own bed, now ye must lie on it.'

Jack stood up in front of Rowan, raised his hands and let them drop again in an indecisive gesture. "I know what ye're thinking but ye're wrong to think it was what it seemed to look like."

"Ah, and what d'ye think I'm thinking it looked like?"

"That I'd kiss her, which, in fact, might have appeared so to any bystander…"

"Never mind," Rowan cut him off, faking indifference, "it's understandable ye kissed her. After all, she's a beautiful woman."

"No, no, no… um, I mean yes, she is, but ye're getting me wrong, luv. There's more than meets the eye. Her kiss was just manipulation concealed as a kiss. I got abused; she forced herself upon me and stuck her tongue down me throat… consider it as an attempted rape."

Rowan rolled her eyes. "Jack, ye're not making any sense."

Jack circled an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Looking her deep in the eyes- eyes, he wanted to drown in- he let the fingers of his free hand ran through her hair before they came resting on her cheek, caressing her gently. His lips brushed hers ever so slightly.

"Am I making sense now, Rowan."

The way he spoke her name made her heart beating faster; it sounded of honest affection. This bloody rascal was about to wind her around his little finger and she liked it.

"No matter how beautiful ol' whatshername is, she can ne'er match ye." Jack purred in a velvet slur, kissing her gently, almost like a question. And she was willing to answer. Their tongues met in a teasing game, entwining, exploring each other. It was a passionate kiss, full of yearning but not driven by mere lust. Instead, it was more like renewing of what they thought they had lost somewhere on the bumpy road of their lives and throughout lost years of separation. Suddenly it didn't matter anymore that Rowan was keeping secrets from him since her kiss proved that she was still the woman he had fallen in love with. Unlike Elisabeth, her kiss did not taste manipulative. It was odd, but probably he had needed her poor example of what a kiss should not be like to appreciate what Rowan really meant to him.

"If there were more women aboard, would the Capt'n get te kiss 'em all or leave some for us?" Marty wondered aloud.

"Shhh… having one woman aboard is frightful bad luck, two o' them only doubles it, and to even think 'bout more… brrr," Mr Gibbs shuddered at the thought and turned around to take a surreptitious swig from his flask, when suddenly he saw something from the corner of his eyes. Sails so dark they almost looked black. A spluttering cough came over his lips as he nearly choked on his rum, trying to shout, "Sails ho."

His words were lost in the loud roar of cannon fire.

Startled, and yet quite reluctantly, Jack and Rowan broke their kiss to see what was going on…

tbc

Now give me many reviews for Christmas! Have a great time and 'see you' next year.


	22. Solving some Riddles

Chapter 22- Solving some Riddles

Fountains of spray sparkling in the sunlight were stirred up from the sea where cannon balls had hit its surface but fortunately none of them hit the black pearl. Nevertheless jack cursed silently. Although it wasn't even noon he was already quite pissed off with this day and its events, except for one.

"Remind me to continue our conversation later, luv. 'Twas kinda stimulating." Jack murmured in Rowan's ear, breathing a kiss on her lips, before he snapped fingers for Gibbs to bring him his telescope while at the same time he looked up the main mast to see whether the watch in the crow's nest had fallen asleep. Apparently not.

"Sails ho!" The watch reported now, a tad too late for Jack's liking. He preferred to be ahead of things happening and not limping after them. "Three points off larboard bow."

Jack raised the telescope. It was the Jewel Star that approached them, still out of range to damage his precious Pearl but swiftly getting closer without ceasing fire. And, she was flying British colours.

"Care to elaborate on that?" He asked, giving Rowan a frown as he passed the telescope on to her.

"Well, that seems to be the proof that Smith-Belleri-Angelo, or whatever his bloody name is, is working for Beaufort. That's what I had needed to find out."

Another blast of cannon fire roared, and this time a ball hit the rail at the bow, sending up whirling splinters of broken wood.

"Damned, next time ye gotta find out something I hope it won't result in someone blowing holes in me ship." Jack hissed. He wanted to shout orders at his crew to run out their guns and open fire but his voice failed him again; he wasn't able to shout without getting the feeling that a lump in his throat was suffocating him, pressing on his vocal chords. Bloody whelp! Fortunately the father of said whelp helped him out by giving exactly the same orders he would have given. Also, he tossed him a bottle with what Jack thought to be rum when instead it was just the Chinese tea flavoured with rum. He drank it with disgust but at least it felt good in his sore throat.

"So, back to these li'le secrets of yers- considering that there's danger ahead and trouble in form of the Dauntless behind us, would it be too presumed to ask if the fellow who stole yer ship and who's blowing holes into my ship is perhaps a privateer?"

"I don't know- hell, I don't even know his proper name. But whatever he is, Angelo is definitely no angel. The bloody bastard is Beaufort's lover..."

"Randy Charly's **pet** stole yer ship?"

"No." Nervously she ran her fingers through her hair. "Actually, I let him take me ship to find out who he's working for"

Jack's eyes widened as he stared at her, not quite believing his own ears. "Repeat that."

Before Rowan could answer, the next salvo shook the Pearl, this time even harder. Some pirates were knocked off their feet while others stumbled across the main deck, trying not to lose their balance. Elisabeth was screaming.

"We talk later. Take the helm and keep the course." Jack instructed Rowan, then he jumped down the stairs to the main deck. He had almost forgotten Elisabeth- even though she was most definitely a nuisance he didn't want to let her die but she would probably die if he kept her chained to the mast; he had to give her a chance to take cover before the next shot hit the Pearl.

Elisabeth greeted him with a flood of curses he hadn't expected from a fair English Lady but then again she had never been the typical noblewoman. Although there once had been a time when he had admired her fierce spirit, today she was merely annoying. Jack chose to ignore her bitching since he saw himself confronted with a greater problem than just a nagging wench. The manacles caused him quite a headache for they were safely locked. And since he had never made use of these shackles, he didn't even know if there was a key to them.

"Jack Sparrow, you damnable scallywag, I demand you to let me go free at once!"

"Easy, luv. Just a second." He turned to his first mate who was just scurrying by. "Er, Mr Gibbs, d'ye happen to have a key to 'em?"

The old salt stopped in his tracks, shot Jack a thoughtful glance, and shook his head. "Nope, I'm afraid not. As far as I know ye never had to make use of these shackles to gain the respect o' yer crew, Jack. Ye're a fair capt'n- if I may be permitted to say so."

"Ye are, mate. Now call for Bootstrap to come here."

"Untie me immediately! I swear, if anything happens to me my husband will hunt you down, and he won't stop until you're finally dead," Elisabeth bickered, apparently not getting that Jack was indeed intending to do just that if only he had a key.

Bill came down from the afterdeck and, recognizing the dilemma, he quickly fetched a key ring from Jack's cabin.

"I know, ye promised that there'd never be any floggings aboard the Pearl, but unfortunately ye didn't captain her all the time. Barbossa…"

"William Turner, stop prattling! You, as my father-in law, should not hesitate to set me free. Remember that we used to be a happy family before Jack talked you into piracy again? You cannot possibly want me to- no, you **owe** it to not allow me to be humiliated any further. I'm giving you the chance to prove you're a good man."

"Never claimed to be one- am I?" Bill handed Jack the keys, smiling wryly.

Jack grinned broadly. "Ye're a gift from the mermaids, mate."

"You're despicable, both of you!" Elisabeth yelled at the two pirates. As soon as Jack had unlocked the manacles she slapped him hard across the face. He just grimaced while Bill managed to catch her hand in midair before she could slap him too, tsking.

"Now, now! That's not quite the way a good daughter-in-law should behave, don't ye agree, dear?"

She glared daggers at him. "I'm almost glad you abandoned Will because"

That very moment a cannon ball hit the foremast and sent the mast top crashing down on them, burying them beneath a cloud of black canvas, parts of the rigging, and broken wood.

When Jack came to his senses again he knew for sure that this was definitely not his day. A sharp pain told him that he had a broken rib, and blood was dripping from a gash right above his brow. Carefully he struggled to free himself from the wreckage he was lying under when suddenly he panicked. Bill! What had happened to Bill? Where was Gibbs? Frantically he yelped their names as he rummaged through torn sails and other remains of the foremast in search for them, breathing a sigh of relief when he finally found Bill.

"Damned, tell me ye're alright!"

"No," Bill opened his eyes, blinking at Jack, "not really… but as it seems I'm still alive, aye? How 'bout ye?"

"I'm fine." Jack faked a smile as he wiped away the blood from his face.

"Jack," Bill began, but his friend cut him off immediately.

"No time for sentimentalities now. Help me to find Gibbs."

They didn't care about Elisabeth. Her bitching told them that she was apparently alright which didn't go for Joshamee Gibbs. The old salt was lying motionlessly on the planks, unconscious, and his left arm looked really nasty. Splinters of wood had born their way into his flesh, and the arm was obviously broken. Until then, Jack he had never known that he really cared about Mr Gibbs but when he looked at him now he became aware that he was quite fond of him- he was a superstitious old salt but had always been loyal to him.

"It looks worse than it is." Bill assured him after a first quick check. "He'll survive?"

"In one piece?"

"Time will tell. Don't nail me on a promise I might not be able to keep." Bill gestured for two pirates to carry Gibbs to the captain's cabin, before he addressed Elisabeth. Her skirt was torn and dirty but otherwise she had managed to remain uninjured. "Move! Scurry to the galley and fetch me hot water!"

Elisabeth didn't move. Instead she just stood there with her arms folded across her chest, giving him a defiant glance.

"Move, I said!" Bill barked in a sharper tone.

"I'm not taking orders from pirates, and besides, you are not in the position"

"He is." Jack cut her off.

"I warn ye, lass- stop this condescending behaviour of yers. Ye're naught but a spoiled, snobbish bitch who believes ye know it all when in fact ye don't have the slightest idea. Ye're constantly telling everyone to do the right thing but as it seems ye absolutely can't tell right from wrong if ye refuse to help me saving lives. So move yer pretty ass to the galley and bring me the bloody water. Now! And. Stop. Pouting!"

A very chastised Elisabeth scampered off to the galley to carry out Bootstrap Bill's order. She feared him more than Jack because he usually was of a friendly nature, essentially gentle in heart- unless something really pissed him off. Then you wouldn't want to be near him.

When he looked at Jack now, his voice was soft again. "Lemme see to yer wounds first."

Before Jack could reply that he was fine, and that he was needed on deck, Bill dragged him along to his cabin. At the same moment Silvers approached them in a hurry.

"Capt'n! The Dauntless is catching up on us!"

Jack cursed. He looked up to the masts and noticed not only the damage done to the foremast but also that the wind was almost completely taken off the other sails.

"Bugger! Why're the sails trimmed so sloppily? With all canvas set the Dauntless wouldn't have stood a chance of catching up…"

"Captain Scarlett ordered all hands to the guns."

"Since when are ye takin' orders from her?" Jack snapped. He wanted to rush to the afterdeck when suddenly a wrong movement caused him to wince with pain.

Silvers and Bill exchanged worried glances.

"Jack, me thinks ye'd better let Bootstrap stitch ye up first."

"No time for that, I'm fine."

There were other pirates that had been wounded, they needed the ship doc's attention more than him, Jack thought, but Bill and Silvers begged to differ. They grabbed their captain and pushed him into his cabin, onto a chair.

"Ye're a bloody liar." Bill chided him. "Now sit still and don't waste my time. It won't take long."

Elisabeth entered the cabin just when Bill stitched up the gash above Jack's brow. Seeing how the needle pierced human skin, tissue, made her shudder; she blanched and almost dropped the bucket of steaming hot water she was carrying.

"Don't go making a fuss, lass." Bill hissed impatiently before he addressed Jack. "I can't heal a broken rip but I can make it hurt less."

"I s'ppose ye don't mean me getting drunk."

"No. We can't match the Dauntless in fire power and we can't match the Jewel in speed, so what we need now is a captain who has all his wits around him to get us out of this bloody trap, not a drugged or drunk one."

"So if rum's ruled out I guess the only thing left are these pretty needles of yers." Jack sighed reluctantly but when another bombardment shook the Pearl he knew that he was just wasting precious time. He cast a glance in Gibbs' direction, heard the groaning of injured crew members… Bill was right, he had to get them out of this mess. "Alright, mate, do what ye have to but hurry up. I have to end this madness."

A little later he was sure that he must look ridiculous, like a porcupine, or- even more fitting- a sea urchin. But this was not the opportune moment for vanity and besides, these needles pinned into him did make him feel better, at least his rib ached less. Nevertheless he shot Silvers a warning glance when they headed towards the afterdeck.

"Don't ye dare to laugh at me or ye'll end up as cannon fodder, savvy?" Without waiting for a reply he abruptly changed the topic, asking, "Did she really give orders to fire at her ship?"

Silvers nodded, "Aye…"

"Now, that's really interesting," Jack murmured thoughtfully before he took over the helm, pushing Rowan aside. "Mr Silvers, I want all hands to abandon the guns and hasten to run the lines. Haul up all the canvas we have, even dear Mrs Turner's skirts if needed. We're gonna go square to the wind. Prepare to chance tack, hard to starboard at my command. Run her full!"

Silvers repeated his captain's commands in a loud voice that made the crew scurry to pull the lines and brace the sails. Quite contentedly Jack turned to Rowan.

"Sorry, luv, but whatever ye had in mind I have to spoil yer plans. We're not gonna fight to get the Jewel back, none of me crew's gonna die for yer ship. This senseless battle ye landed us in has already caused enough damage."

"It wasn't me who landed us in this mess." Rowan snapped. "When I left ye this morning, I asked ye to lemme go so that I could find out what I had to with every intention of coming back. I didn't ask ye to go and cause havoc in Port Royal which led to our hasty departure with the bloody Royal Navy hard on our heels."

Though Rowan was right, Jack decided to ignore this unimportant fact. "Speakin' of the bloody Royal Navy- ye might have noticed that the Dauntless is gaining on us."

"Oh," She cast a glance over her shoulder; actually she hadn't noticed that yet.

"Ye know the Pearl can't match a hundred cannon man-o-war…" Jack grabbed the wheel hard and gave orders to change tack. He would have failed in pulling it around though if Rowan hadn't helped him. No matter how many needles were pinned into him, a broken rib was still a broken rib.

"She can't outrun the Jewel Star either." Rowan shouted in his ear, reminding him for the second time today that the Pearl was not the fastest ship around. She leant closer to him. "Jack, give me at least one gun crew so that I can try to bring down her main mast as long as there's still time."

"Ye're serious?" Jack gasped surprised but the determined look on her face told him that she was. He motioned over Marty, ordering him to man a gun and aim at the Jewel's mast. Alas, the Pearl lurched as she changed tack and the opportune angle for a precise shot was soon gone. Rowan cursed when the ball merely tore a sail.

"Luv, I'm worried. Ye're way too keen to shoot holes into yer ship."

"I'd rather see her at the bottom of the ocean than in the hands of Belleri."

"Now, now, no reason for drastic measures. If we manage to keep her out of reach 'til nightfall there's a fair chance we can negotiate her return later on…"

"No!" Rowan cut him off vehemently, "I will **never** negotiate with this bloody bastard, no way!"

"Ah, do I hear a certain loathing in yer lovely voice?"

"Antonio Belleri alias Anthony Smith alias Angelo, _mio bello_, is responsible for the death of approximately two hundred honest pirates, so there definitely is a reason to loathe him."

"Responsible in the sense of hunting them down and enjoying seeing them swinging from the gallows?" Jack asked, swallowing hard while his hand went protectively to his throat.

"No, responsible in the sense of slaughtering them in their sleep." Rowan spat contemptuously. "D'ye understand now why I'm not gonna negotiate with him? He's a slimy rotten piece of stinking shit. I wouldn't even mind to sink the Jewel as long as he's going down with her- although I'm quite sure that Beaufort ordered the massacre. Of course there's no proof to that yet, and I'm not grasping the reason either."

Jack gave her a frown. He was sure that he had heard of said massacre before though he couldn't quite put a finger on when or where. "I understand yer loathing. I also understand that ye tricked me. Ye said someone stole yer ship…"

"I said I lost the Jewel," she corrected him, "ye were the one who came up with the conclusion that she was stolen from me."

"But why did ye let him take her?"

"'Cause I had to find out for whom he's working. First, I thought he's working for the East India Trading Company but his name was not on their payroll, and since he seemed to be desperate to get to Port Royal, I let him take the Jewel… I should add that he nearly lost his ship before reaching Bombay, and that he's not the greatest of all sailors, so the chances are good that we might indeed manage to slip away… Anyway, our plan was good until I got shot and had to be left behind since we couldn't afford to lose his trace. After I had recovered, I bartered a passage to Madras where I met ye, and the rest ye know. Though it might seem to ye now that I tricked ye but I swear, the whole situation is far more complicated and I still can't tell ye quite as much as I want to because of a promise I gave to a friend. We promised to not give away our plan to anyone not involved."

"Mhmpf," Jack grumbled surly.

Rowan wrapped her arms around him and breathed a kiss on his lips. "Jack, if it were only for a ship I would've never endangered ye 'cause I really care for ye. Damned, I love ye. But this isn't only 'bout a ship"

"Apparently ye've vengeance in mind."

"I'd rather call it just punishment for these unscrupulous murderers so that the souls of those murdered can rest in peace."

With a sigh, Jack freed himself from her embrace. Though it had been nice to hear that she loved him, at the moment it simply wasn't enough. He captained a pirate ship, he was responsible for every _living_ soul aboard, and therefore he couldn't care less about any unknown, already dead souls.

"Please excuse me, but I have to see now how Mr Gibbs is faring, and all the other ones that got wounded in the course of ye seeking justice."

He left her with the order to keep the course and entered his cabin.

"What's the butcher's bill?"

Bill looked up, smiling wryly.

"Nine wounded, most of them slightly and already back to their stations. Three severely wounded but no one dead so far- although I doubt that Hanson will see out the night."

"How's Gibbs?"

"Alive, drugged, and still in one piece."

Jack nodded approvingly when his eyes suddenly fell on Elisabeth slack form, lying on the blood-smeared floor. "What happened to her?"

"The realisation that a real pirate's life is not what Lady Wannabe Pirate expected it to be like- at least not the bloody part of it. The stupid git blacked out when I asked her to assist me."

Chuckling grimly, Jack grabbed a bottle of rum and took a good sip, then he looked around. "Alright, wake her and make her clean up this mess ye made of me cabin. I need ye on deck. I need a report of the damages and"

"What vexes ye, Jack?" Bill asked softly, having figured him out. He knew his friend well enough to notice there was something wrong with him.

"The fact that Mr Gibbs had been right about women aboard. Frightful bad luck."

"Ah, trouble with Rowan?"

"She tricked me. She manipulatively abused my general generosity and particularly the soft spot I have for her by telling me she lost her ship, knowing that I'd help her getting it back when actually she let this Belleri fellow take her ship in order to find out something 'bout him. And she's still keeping secrets from me. Why can't she just put all her cards on the table?"

"Peas in a pod, Jack. Ye're a truly perfect match." Bill replied laughing.

Jack's eyes narrowed as he glared at his friend. "What are ye trying to imply, mate?"

"Sails ho!" The watch in the crow's nest reported this moment.

Jack raced back to the afterdeck half expecting to see another navy vessel, which definitely would not improve their situation at all. Though the Dauntless had fallen behind again, the Jewel was still following in their wake on larboard quarters, while the third ship was approaching them on the starboard bow, able to cut off their escape route.

"What colours is she flying?"

"None!" Silvers retorted a bit puzzled.

Impatiently, Jack snatched the telescope from his hands and focussed it on the strange ship before he almost dropped it, hardly believing his own eyes. This, for sure, was not a naval vessel. It didn't even resemble vaguely the ship types the Royal Navy preferred although it had similar high decks astern. But the rest of the ship looked completely different, from the arrangement of its five masts to the rigging or the rail that was carved like a Chinese dragon, painted in red and gold. He raised the telescope again.

"That's a bloody junk! A junk in the Caribbean. Bill! BILL!"

His friend was at his side only an instant later, affectionately patting his back because he had forgotten that his maltreated throat didn't like screaming. After finishing coughing and gasping for breath, Jack handed the telescope over.

"Mate, I'm seeing junks. Tell me that this isn't a side effect of the tea ye made me drink."

"No, it really is a junk." Rowan interfered without having to look through the telescope to know that.

"Oh great- more surprises, more secrets. Mayhap we should just blow up the bloody junk."

"No!" Rowan yelled. "Damned, this is not our enemy, quite the contrary. This ship is crewed by my men, honest pirates, the former crew of the Jewel, and her captain is a close friend of mine."

Jack arched a quizzical brow at her. "How close?"

"Very close, but not enough for ye to be jealous."

"I am **not **jealous. Ever." He tsked indignantly, but he was damned curious about her very close friend while she actually had the nerve to keep him in suspense.

-

Ever since she was a young girl, Elisabeth had been fascinated by pirates. She had read many books about them, had heard the ladies at court telling tales about the famous pirate Sir Henry Morgan, and she had learned a funny little song. She had thought it to be exciting to meet a pirate, to live a pirate's life. Unfortunately, real life was not that exciting. Although she didn't mind doing a bit of housework, like setting the table and arranging the decoration for a perfect dinner, it was below her dignity to scrub the floor of a pirate's cabin. It was neither her idea of adventure nor of freedom, actually it was quite humiliating. And yet she had had no say in that. Her father-in-law had given her this order, and she had not dared to disobey him. There was something about Bootstrap Bill that made Elisabeth shiver, even though she didn't believe he would really harm her. But a man who chose his pirate friend over his son, his own flesh and blood, was unpredictable. At least he could make every moment of her stay aboard the Black Pearl unbearable, like hell. With tears in her eyes she thought of Will, her beloved husband, feeling sorry for him because his father was such a disappointment. At the same time the thought of Will made her endure this misery she was in, knowing that he would come to save her. Until then she had to stay tough, fight back her tears, and do what she was told.

Disgusted she wrung out the cloth, noticing that the water in the bucket had turned red with blood, and that her poor hands were already wrinkled from scrubbing the floor. This was a real nightmare.

Meanwhile, the Pearl sailed past the junk. Through his telescope Jack saw familiar faces aboard, the former crew of the Jewel, but he didn't spot their captain. Who was he? He gave Rowan a frown; her secretiveness was driving him nuts. She, however, just smiled at him.

"That's not funny, luv," he grumbled under his breath.

"Ne'er meant to be," Rowan replied, reaching out for him. "Jack, it really isn't my intention to annoy ye but my friend wishes to stay incognito until the opportune moment has come. We want to take Belleri by surprise, we want him to feel safe…"

"I'm terribly sorry, but I see no profit in it for me." Jack cut her off.

"That might be 'cause there is none." She shrugged, apparently indifferently. "Alright, listen to me. I gave a promise to a friend, and I'm intending to keep that. So, all I'm askin' ye is to bear with me just a little longer- let's say, 'til we're out of danger of getting caught by the Navy and it's safe for me to scurry over to the Wicked. Savvy? Then we both can go our own ways."

That was definitely not what Jack had in mind. He didn't want them going their own ways, didn't want to let her go, let her sail away from him, out of his life. To hell with love but he couldn't help loving her, despite of all the things she put him through.

"Oh no, ye can't kiss me like ye kissed me, and then get rid of me; it simply won't work. I won't let ye get away that easily."

That moment, the junk changed course slightly, now being in the position to fire a broadside at the Pearl's pursuers. The flash from the muzzle was of a bright orange when her cannons went off, roaring like thunder. At the same time there was a strange, screeching howl to be heard, followed by golden sparks that shot through the air and exploded in blue and green cascades of light, then whirling like crazy fire demons before they sank into the sea with a hiss. It was a spectacular sight but also one that scared many superstitious sailors shitless, causing them to make signs against evil, fearing that the sea would start to boil like a cauldron of hell, or that hell itself would break lose now. Of course, none of that happened.

In view of the unexpected fireworks it almost appeared as a positive side effect that the junk's cannons had managed to bring down the Jewel Star's bowsprit and all her jib sails, thus rendering her hardly manoeuvrable. The man who captained her now cursed frustrated, knowing that he was unable to carry out his beloved master's order any longer.

"_Maledetti pirati_," he spat contemptuously as he surveyed the damage done to his ship.

Aboard the Black Pearl, Jack arched a brow at Rowan.

"Impressive. Apparently the man who captains this junk and yer crew is quite a capable captain."

"Yep." Rowan rolled her eyes, wondering why he thought that a capable captain had to be a man.

Bill lowered the telescope after having taken a closer look at the Chinese signs written on the junk's hull, frowning. "She's called The Dragon's Wicked Sister…"

A short arrow came buzzing by his ear and hit the mast behind him, where it got stuck. He blanched slightly because both the name of the ship as well as the arrow reminded him of someone he would have never expected here, and yet it suddenly began to make sense.

There was a message attached to the arrow, actually more like a question that read _'Permission to come aboard?'_ and Jack was all too willing to grant permission. Most likely it was just out of curiosity, because he finally wanted to meet Rowan's mysterious friend.

A little later the junk had come alongside the Pearl, and someone swung over on a rope. Someone with pretty legs in shiny black over-knee boots. The person landed very gracefully, smoothed her green silk coat embroidered with golden dragons, and then stumbled over her own feet when walking towards Jack, who managed to break her fall. But that merely earned him a slap on the fingers with her folded fan.

"Captain Jack, you mishap of an unfortunate liaison of a vain peacock with a bitch in heat, it's so good to see you," she greeted him with a gentle voice, smiling sweetly.

Jack raised his hands in despair. "I wish I could say I'm equally glad seeing ye…"

"I know, it's hard to best a perfect lie."

She was straightforward although she wrapped it in polite smiles, and she was so beautiful that one felt tempted to ignore her hidden insults. Her face was perfectly shaped, with dark almond eyes, full, soft lips, and a skin so smooth it almost seemed ageless. It was a face that reminded you of a Chinese princess or even a goddess- until you looked at her hair. Her short, jet-black mess stuck up in all direction and gave the impression of a wind-blown pixie that had never seen a comb. She, however, called it style.

"Anyhow," she turned to give Rowan a warm hug, "I am truly glad to see you, sister. It took so long for you to come."

"Oh bugger," Jack gasped, finally tying up all the loose ends. Then he glanced at Bill who had to be pleasantly surprised about this turn of events.

Bill stood there, frozen to the spot, wordlessly staring at the Chinese woman as if he was seeing a ghost. She still looked as stunning as he remembered her, and when she addressed him, his heart was beating faster.

"Bootstrap."

"Tao. I…"

"Shh," she cut him off as she flung her arms around him and kissed him.

He was absolutely taken by surprise. Although he hadn't seen her for years, the same old feeling they used to share was still there, rendering him speechless even when she finally broke their kiss.

"You're whole again," she whispered, gazing in his eyes, running delicate fingers along his cheekbones as if to relearn the shape of his face, before she actually flashed Jack a warm smile. "You made him whole. You brought back my Bootstrap."

"Well then," Jack cleared his throat but the lump in there had nothing to do with almost gotten throttled today, "if ye really want to demonstrate yer extraordinary gratitude, ye may be permitted to kiss me, thus making me today's most kissed man aboard."

"Jack!" Bill and Rowan snapped in unison, while Tao just flipped open her fan.

"Captain Jack, since you still have the charm of a louse-ridden skunk I must politely decline your request."

He stared at the razor-sharp ends of her fan, knowing that this damned thing could be a deadly weapon. Nevertheless he cracked a smile and opened his arms wide in a disarming gesture. "Welcome to the Caribbean, luv. I'd be very much obliged to offer ye me cabin if ye want to continue seducing me friend, but unfortunately…"

That moment, the cannons of the Dauntless went off, thundering loudly. Though it was nothing more than a threatening gesture, a warning shot far out of range to cause damage, it nevertheless reminded the pirates that they weren't out of danger yet.

"…ta, that's what I wanted to say."

"You are right, Captain Jack. No sex while in the midst of a battle. I'll keep to that."

"Oh, good. Care to fill me in 'bout said battle?"

Tao shot Rowan a puzzled glance. "You did not tell them?"

"'Course not. Ye wanted to keep our mission secret, remember?"

"I do. But I never meant to keep any secrets from Bootstrap."

Rowan rolled her eyes. Sometimes it was hard to remain patient when trying to cope with Tao, although she really liked her. Actually, Tao was the only woman she had ever come to respect since they were so much alike- both being pirates, striving for their personal freedom in a world dominated by men.

"Ye asked me to keep secrets from the man Ilove."

"Who? Oh! You mean Captain Jack… well, that wasn't exactly what I asked you to, but…"

"Ladies," Bill interrupted them, "don't ye think ye caused enough confusion? Why don't ye tell us everything from the very beginning on?"

"Now, that's a wonderful idea. Talking is so much better than all this talk 'bout a battle I'm not intending to fight. Let's have a glass of- no," Jack shot Tao a sceptical look as he corrected himself, "a mug, a pewter tankard, solid and unbreakable- anyway, let's have some rum. What say ye?"

Rowan and Tao exchanged glances and nodded.

"I appreciate your hospitality, Captain Jack." Tao said politely and headed for his cabin; it was obvious that she had been aboard the Black Pearl before because she knew the way. At the open door she bumped into Elisabeth who was just about to leave the cabin with a bucket full of dirty water. It got spilled all over her.

"Oops, I'm sorry," Tao chirped apologetically, "I did not see you…"

A bit ineptly she tried to help Elisabeth to wipe the water off her dress with the result that she merely smeared filth and blood thoroughly all over her. This was too much for Elisabeth. She had been abducted, threatened and humiliated, had been treated like a slave, forced to scrub the floor of Jack's cabin, down on her knees, but she would not allow any slant eyed pirate slut to affront her dignity any further.

"Stop it!" She shrieked. "Will you stop it at once! Take your hands off me, you clumsy fool, you… you ugly scarecrow!"

Tao wiped her hands at the sleeves of Elisabeth's dress before she let go of her, taken aback by her harsh tone. Tsking indignantly she turned to Bill. "Who is she, suffering from such a lack of good manners?"

"Well, unfortunately, she's my daughter in law."

"Ah, married to your dead son I believe- er, I meant your son you believed to be dead although he wasn't, unless, of course, you fathered more than just one son..." Suddenly her eyes widened when a thought flashed through her mind, one she hadn't even bothered taken into consideration yet. "Holy dragon' shit- you're not married, are you?"

He just shook his head, wordlessly staring into her eyes, and she started smiling- until Jack interrupted them.

"Well, methinks with a daughter-in-law like our lovely Lizzie, every decent pirate would feel mightily disinclined to acquiesce in a marriage since the mere prospect had the gloomy ring of a threatening doom. So, stop flirting now. We've got things to talk over. Savvy?"

The pirates walked into the cabin and Rowan slammed the door in Elisabeth's face, who felt kind of miserable. Fighting back her tears she longed for Will to come and save her.

Rowan sat down at the table and gulped down a glass of rum, knowing that finally the time had come to tell the truth. She did not want to talk about the time after Kalpitiya, about nightmares or almost self-destructive raids, feeling lost when all she had wanted to was to find herself again. She had failed, that was certain, but that didn't belong here.

"Alright, what d'ye wanna hear?"

"Nothing but the truth, luv, for once. I want a plausible explanation to understand the full extend of things ye landed us in."

"I didn't," she snapped defensively before she let out a frustrated sigh, realizing that Jack wasn't to blame either and that there was no point in arguing with him. It was better to cut a long story short and tell him what he wanted to know. "Well, it all started with Eddie O'Brien, who joined me crew in Singapore. He was a funny guy and worth his salt- unfortunately I found out later that he was a spy, working for Belleri …"

"May his soul rot forever in the deepest circle of hell for his betrayal." Tao spat compulsively.

"Aye, I believe he will."

"Am I right to assume ye two lovely ladies had something to do with him rotting in hell?"

"Ye don't want to know the details, Jack." Rowan said, frowning at him when he arched a quizzical brow, emphasising, "Ye really don't."

"Considering what I know about the charming Xing-Ill clan I guess it was rather messy. I still remember Tao's bother Chen promising to castrate Bill if he ever found him gazing at his sister again, and he actually threatened me to tear out my intestines and use them as lines for his"

"You got him wrong!"

"Ah! So which part of _'I'll tear out yer intestines and use them as lines for the rigging of my new ship if you ever dare to help this bastard you call your friend in dishonouring my sister again_' I didn't understand, dear Tao?"

"He threatened you, right- but he would have never harmed a hair of your head because he always respected, even admired you."

Bill gave them puzzled glances, wondering what they were talking about. Addressing Jack he asked, "When did ye help me to," before he remembered an incident years ago and fell silent again. So apparently Jack had had his hands in giving him the opportune moment to spend his first night with Tao, which of course had caused Chen's wrath.

"Well, I prefer being admired without my intestines involved."

"You don't have to worry anymore, Captain Jack," Tao said sardonically, hiding the pain in her voice, "my brother is dead."

"I know, and I'm sorry for yer loss," he broke off, suddenly figuring out what was going on here. The massacre Rowan had been talking about and that a Chinaman in Singapore had told him of were one and the same, as he had already guessed when Tao had landed on his ship. Nevertheless he still wanted to hear the whole story, so he encouraged Rowan to continue.

"At the time Eddie signed on, I was already sailing with Chen and his fleet…" They had been allies, friends, for years so it hadn't been hard for Chen to figure her out. He had helped her to conquer the demons haunting her ever since Kalpitiya; he had helped her to find a way out of the darkness she had been drifting in for too long. "One day, Chen held his annual ritual at Pulau Batam, seeking the blessing of Mae Yanang, the Chinese patron of seafarers and fishermen- and pirates of course. Only men were allowed to join in, no women, no foreigners. So Tao and I stayed in Singapore, together with my crew. We had a fun night out… until the early hours of the morning when we suddenly noticed a glow at the southern horizon, the glow of fire… it came from the direction of Pulau Batam. By the time we finally got there, all of them were dead, their throats slit… the whole beach covered with blood, blood spilled on sacred sand… their junks were burning…"

"More than two hundred honest pirates, my family, my friends, loyal allies all of them. Massacred in one single night." Tao bit her lips, fighting back the tears in her eyes. Bill reached for her hand to give it a comforting squeeze.

"A toast to absent friends." Jack raised his glass in a solemn gesture. Despite all the differences he had had with Chen- especially concerning Bill and Tao- he had nevertheless respected him as a daring but thoughtful pirate captain, a brilliant strategist and caring leader. His death was definitely a loss for piracy.

They clinked glasses and emptied them in silence. Then, Tao reached for the bottle in order to refill the glasses but Jack tried to beat her to it… apparently with a good reason since the bottle slipped her flingers, like so many things happened to slip her fingers even if she didn't touch them at all. She let out a surprised, '_Oops!'_, while he fell off his chair in the process of catching the bottle, landing hard on his back, yelping with pain. Nevertheless, he had succeeded and clutched the bottle safely to his chest

"Are you all right, Captain Jack?" Tao asked worriedly before tsking, "My, it seems to me as if you are worshiping the God of Rum way too much. You really should reconsider your attitude..."

"Thanks, luv, no need to worry 'bout me. I'm fine." He cut her off, wagering his hands theatrically as he stumbled to his feet again, glancing at Rowan. "Well, I understand now why ye have to be protective of sweet Tao in the sense of protecting her from herself but that still doesn't explain how that bloody Italian came by yer ship."

"That day at Pulau Batam we found Eddie missing, none of my crew had seen him since the early evening, and because it was obvious that someone had betrayed Chen, giving away his whereabouts, we came to the conclusion that Eddie had to be the traitor. A fisherman told us later he had seen a ship flying the colours of the East India Trading Company. So we set sail for India, caught up with said ship and followed it to Bombay. Of course, we could have just blown it up but then we hadn't found out for whom Eddie was working. Although he was a treacherous bastard he was definitely not clever or scrupulous enough to think up this massacre, and besides he had had no motive. Anyway, in Bombay we overheard a conversation between him and Belleri in which Belleri was quite upset that his ship got so badly damaged in the storm a couple of days ago. He seemed desperate to get to the Caribbean and his master..."

"So ye let him take yer ship?" Jack asked, arching a quizzical brow.

"No. Why don't ye hear me out before drawing rash conclusions? It's far more complicated. We had already found out that neither Eddie O'Brien nor Antonio Belleri were on the payroll of the East India Company, so for once they were not to blame- although they were definitely damned pleased to hear about Chen's death, given that he had really pestered them all these years. So what we needed was the name of Belleri's master in the Caribbean. We planned to find out his name, kill Eddie and Belleri, and then sail to the Caribbean in order to hunt down the man who had arranged Chen's death…"

"Ye expected Belleri to willingly give away the name of the man he's working for?" Jack interrupted again, this time a bit flabbergasted.

Rowan sighed; she did not intend to tell Jack any details of how they had planned to find out the name of Belleri's master but Tao was less discreet.

"No, of course not. He certainly would not have given away the name of the man he is working for, therefore we planned that Rowan was to seduce Belleri while I was to search his room for evidence…"

"Wait a second, me fair ladies," Jack gasped, giving Rowan a frown, "did I just hear correctly that ye seduced Belleri?"

Before Rowan could answer, Tao beat her to it, chirping. "Captain Jack, did I hear a hint of jealousy in your voice? For a weasel with an ambiguous reputation like yours this surely has an unusual ring, but don't worry. Rowan did not succeeded in seducing Belleri, she unfortunately failed. Yet I still don't get why you failed, sister."

"Well, partly 'cause I'm a woman and Belleri's into men…"

"What a shame, he's such a handsome looking creature."

"…but nevertheless I could have kept him distracted for a little longer if ye hadn't made such a noise in his room, _sister_."

"Don't be unfair now. You know that this big chandelier was suddenly right behind me."

Rowan rolled her eyes. The problem with Tao was her clumsiness which was almost legendary. Though she moved gracefully and definitely was no inept fool she nevertheless had an uncanny knack for stumbling over her own feet, misplacing things, or breaking them without even touching them.

"Yep, that sounds perfectly like Tao- getting attacked by a chandelier that unexpectedly popped up behind her although it probably was there for ages." Jack agreed sarcastically, still eyeing Rowan a bit sourly. "What happened after ye _unfortunate_ failed to seduce the bloody Italian?"

"Things got out of control… can't remember much 'cause I got shot in the course of events. Tao took me- ah damned, Jack, don't look at me like that. Shardul made me a whore therefore ye shouldn't be surprised I was willing to act like one, and besides, I ne'er asked ye how many whores ye screwed these past two years so don't make such a fuss about things that didn't even happen at all." Rowan snatched the bottle from Jack's hand, refilled her glass and gulped it down as if she was like trying to drown the memories that had just flashed through her mind. Then she shook her head and continued unceremoniously, "However, Tao took me to the house of a friend, the wife of an Indian merchant called Ashanti. Ye know her too, don't ye?"

Jack smiled wryly in memory of Lady Ashanti, remembering a pretty young lass who had unfortunately been married to an old fart but made the best of her situation. Instead of simply accepting her fate she had somehow managed to turn her unloved husband into a helpless wreck, struck with a mysterious disease no one could heal while she had taken over his business. He was glad to hear that she was apparently still safe and sound as well as she seemed to have kept her liking for pirates.

"Well, we couldn't let Belleri get away, and he desperately wanted to get away from Bombay after Eddie's corpse had been found; I believe it wasn't a pleasant sight."

Tao chuckled grimly, and neither Jack nor Bill wanted to hear any details about that. They both knew that the wrath of the Xing-Ill clan could be a bit messy.

"All he needed was a ship to get to his master," Rowan continued, "so we decided to let him take mine but made him believe he stole the Jewel. It was the only possible solution. Ashanti had already offered Tao this junk, so we didn't have anything to lose. We couldn't have crewed two ships anyway, and we needed to know who he was running to; Tao had sworn an oath to avenge the death of her brother. And though I had promised to help her, we had to part in Bombay because I was in the miserable position of having been shot. So she followed Belleri, while I was to barter a passage to the Caribbean as soon as I had recovered. That's it. Ye know the rest of the story, Jack. I didn't want to take advantage of ye but I couldn't break me promise when meeting ye again, and I didn't want to keep secrets from ye either. Alas, we had to keep our mission secret…"

"Dear, I already told you that I never meant to keep any secrets from Bootstrap, and I definitely didn't intend you having to keep secrets from your Captain Jack. I just hope you had a pleasant voyage nevertheless"

"Great, ye should've specified that before ye made me swore not to tell anyone," Rowan snapped irritated before facing Jack. "Well then, now that ye know the whole story the only question is whether ye're going to help us."

Jack raised his hands defensively. "Why should I want to avenge Chen's death?"

"Because… 'cause ye're Captain Jack Sparrow and we need ye."

"We don't need him, sister," Tao interjected, "it can't be so hard to kill Belleri and his master."

"Unless Belleri's master is the Governor of Port Royal and therefore likely in the position to set the whole bloody Navy onto us. Ye may have noticed that right now we're being pursued by their flagship, the Dauntless. And Jack, it's not only 'bout Chen but also 'bout Beaufort's wheelings and dealings."

Jack looked uneasily across his shoulder. "Actually I'd prefer not havin' to deal with him at all."

"Beaufort?" Tao asked confused. "Beaufort as in Randy Charly, the terror of all pretty young boys in India, years ago?"

"Aye, he's Belleri's lover and probably also the man behind the massacre of Pulau Batam. I saw them together this morning, they seemed to be quite familiar with each other… oh, and I stole some love letters from Belleri. Mayhap they can tell us more than just ridiculous Italian sweet talk." Rowan took out the letters she had stuffed under her shirt early and flung them on the table.

"Women…" Jack sighed overdramatically, "always keen on reading love stories. Well, ladies, if ye happen to find out anything more specific than endless vows of adoration- like Beaufort's reason for having ordered dear Chen's slaughter for example, since that still doesn't make any sense to me, unless Chen had made the same mistake I did and also rejected his advances- then don't hesitate to disturb me. Ye'll find me at the helm, trying to find a way out of this mess ye managed to land us in."

"We ought to fight instead of running away!"

Jack ignored Tao's objection, glancing at Rowan. "Luv, I trust ye to not let her touch anything breakable, savvy? Bill, move yer lazy ass, mate. I need ye to shout orders."

Caressing the smooth wood of the wheel, Jack took over the helm and tried to gain an overview of their current situation. It was late afternoon, the light had already changed, indicating that the sun was about to set soon. That was good since both the Jewel Star as well as the Dauntless were still pursuing the Pearl, sailing in her wake but fortunately out of range. He hoped to escape them by nightfall.

"Mr Silvers, I need a detailed damage report. How's the repair of the foremast progressing?"

"We lost the fore topgallant mast…"

"I know that, it decided to break me rib when it came crashing down. Is there anything new ye can tell me?"

"Aye, Capt'n, the crew managed to repair most of the rigging so all sails 'cept for the fore topgallant sail are in order."

"Very well," Jack nodded appreciatively before he looked out for the junk, which was sailing next to them at starboard. He couldn't help it; this five masted, decorated with dragons painted in red and gold, _ship_ looked grotesquely out of place here. With a whisk of his hand he dismissed Silvers, addressing Bill as he continued in a low, mumbling tone. "We'll keep this course until nightfall. Let 'em think we're heading for Tortuga to seek shelter like every pirate would do- though I definitely won't do anything that blatant... we have two hours of complete darkness before the moon will rise and we're gonna use the time to lose them."

Bill didn't respond. Actually he didn't even seem to listen, being totally lost in thoughts. Jack chuckled, guessing to know the reason for that.

"Oh bugger- just one look of her velvet almond eyes and ye're bewitched, infatuated, entirely lost… madly in love with this Chinese wench."

"What?" Bill gave him a confused glance before he grasped what Jack had said. "No, no I'm not."

"William Turner, didn't ye promise to never lie to me again? Don't pretend ye're not eager to fulfil her heart's desire, all too willing to hasten and avenge her beloved brother's death."

Bill blushed like one caught in the act. "I'm not lying, Jack. Well, ye're right. I used to love her once, and aye, me heart was beating faster when I met her today- but we missed our chance way back then. It's too late to revive a feeling that had never been strong enough to survive."

Jack gave him a frown and rolled his eyes heavenwards. "Good. Miss the opportune moment but don't come whining later. Now give orders that all hands are needed on deck as soon as night falls. I want all lanterns doused when it's dark, no shouts, no yells. Silence aboard, savvy? Tell the crew to prepare to change course then."

"Do we have a heading?"

"Aye, escaping the bloody Navy is our heading. That's me first priority. Of course ye can still try to persuade me helping dear Tao later."

"To what point and purpose? Ye made it quite clear that ye have no reason to avenge Chen's death."

"Mayhap I might change me mind." Jack offered, feeling tempted to knock Bill's head against the mast, annoyed by his pretended indifference. He couldn't fool him. No matter how hard he tried to deny it but Bootstrap Bill still had a serious crush on Tao which led him to having to make a decision he wasn't keen on, one he would have preferred to avoid. Of course, he could just sail away and leave a couple of broken hearts- including his own- drowning in the wake. If he were as selfish as everyone believed him to be he'd do exactly that without even blinking an eye… alas, he wasn't like that at all. Although he definitely was not in the mood for any heroic acts today, he nevertheless felt emotionally obliged to do what he really didn't want to do since the alternative of his decision wasn't desirable either.… it would not only end in him losing Rowan forever but also in spoiling Bill's love life, and though he thought he could live with the first, he surely didn't want to risk the last. So he turned to his friend, giving orders, "find a way to send a message to that bloody junk, just in case I wanna give 'em our new heading."

Bill stared at him flabbergasted, completely taken by surprise. Finally he breathed a feeble sounding, "Why?"

"'cause in the course of events someone had to plot a new course according to said events, and apparently said someone had to be me, savvy?" Jack replied, flashing him a wry half smile while his friend just gave him a confused glance in return, apparently not grasping what he was about. Well, it was hard to explain anyway since his change of mind had something to do with values he wasn't actually famous for. He let out a dramatic sigh.

"Damned," Bill gasped, suddenly figuring him out, "I don't mind if ye wanna help them 'cause it's the right thing to do, but please, Jack, don't do it just for me. I don't want ye to risk"

"Mate," Jack cut him off, "methinks ye're way too full of yerself now."

author's note: I probably won't be able to update before March because I will be on vacation, so please be patient.

17


	23. Complicated Love Affairs

Sorry that it took so long to update. Hope you like it and please don't forget to leave a review. I love feedback!

Chapter 23- Complicated Love Affairs

Rowan tried to concentrate on the pile of letters in front of her and to not waste any more thoughts on Jack, but she failed. It was hard to concentrate on love letters when your own love life was just about to unravel like old rigging. Damned, it had definitely never been her intention to trick him, hurt him, or fight with him on a daily basis, and though he hadn't said it she knew he was still mad at her, still not getting it why she had to keep things secret. Bloody idiot! Why was it so hard for him to understand that she merely had wanted to keep a promise she had given? She couldn't have let Tao down after she had lost everything, after all her friends, her family, had been slaughtered on a beach of Pulau Batam. Tao had needed a friend then, and she had felt obliged to offer her assistance since she believed she owed it to Chen, who had never hesitated to help her without any ulterior motives. Also, she really liked Tao- although or just because she was nearly as annoying as Jack sometimes... which took her thoughts back to him again, reminding her that he had made it unmistakably clear that there was no profit for him in helping them. So what were they still doing here, aboard his ship, where she was merely tolerated but hardly liked? With a sigh she glanced at Tao who just stared into space, apparently lost in thoughts.

"We should return to the Wicked."

"What?" Tao looked up confused, a dreamy smile on her lips. "Oh, I heard what you said, sister, nevertheless you're not making any sense. Why should we return to the Wicked?"

"'Cause Jack's not gonna help us anyway."

"Oh please, give him a chance. I believe the last word about this isn't spoken yet…"

"Because of Captain Jack Sparrow's good heart, his honest streak or his general selflessness?" Rowan sneered.

"Now don't be absurd, sister," Tao replied gently, "that scallywag loves you but you still bear a grudge against him because of things that went wrong between you although he might not have been the one to blame for it. Though I appreciate your efforts to help me avenging my brother's death I do not want it happening on the expense of your love for Jack. This price is too high, I won't accept it. He's not a bad fellow, your Captain Jack… a bit daft perhaps, and definitely too full of himself most of the time… but, well, he's worthy being loved because Bootstrap would not love him the way he does if he's not worthy…"

"Now ye're not making any sense, Tao. Apparently ye've a serious crush on Bill, that's why ye're talking such a crap."

"It's a long story between me and Bootstrap, not just a crush. Nevertheless I never expected to meet him again… but isn't it funny that in the course of seeking revenge we find love? That's what I call Karma. Maybe the Goddess of Mercy is trying to tell us to be less harsh, and that revenge is not everything in life. She is reminding us of our softer side, to keep the balance between Yin and Yang. We shall not forget what we came here for but act less grimly. It was a mistake to demand that Jack fight instead of escaping. He was right. It was not cowardice that made him turn down my request but the fact that he's a prudent leader who cares for those sailing under his command. He knows that vengeance does not justify risking the life of others"

"Oh c'mon, the halo ye're trying to give him doesn't suit him at all!" Rowan cut her off.

"I wasn't saying he's a saint, and I definitely don't want him to find out a thing of what I just said about him since that would merely feed his greedy ego. I am certainly not one of his greatest admirers…" Tao rose from her chair in a graceful movement and looked around the cabin before facing Rowan again. "…actually it might even seem I don't like him at all, though this isn't the truth either. However, what I really want is just punishment for the murders of my brother so that his soul can rest in peace, although I doubt his soul could ever rest in peace knowing that I'd willingly endanger the lives of those who offered their support just for the sake of revenge. He would also want me to care more for my friends… for you, sister. I already feel badly because things have gone so dreadfully wrong between you and Captain Jack due to a complete misunderstanding on my behalf, so I beg you to reconsider your attitude towards him."

Rowan let out a weary sigh, thinking about the kiss they had shared only a few hours ago although it almost seemed to her that an eternity had passed since then. It had been a perfect illusion of what it could be like but reality had caught up on them just an instant later.

"It'll never be like it used to be," she summarized frustrated.

"No, of course not. People are changing constantly, developing, reaching new horizons- but this doesn't mean that merely because things won't be like they used to be they cannot get better."

Rowan gave her a frown, doubting that. This conversation was senseless so she focussed her attention on the letters again. Meanwhile, Tao had started to walk around the cabin, taking a closer look at some of the booty Jack had collected, when suddenly she noticed the man lying in the bed.

"He really has funny facial hair..."

"What?" Rowan looked up, startled to see Tao bending over Mr Gibbs. "Oh no… don't wake him, don't touch anything!"

Too late. Gibbs woke up staring in Tao's face and his first reaction was to yelp with a mixture of surprise, shock, and pain. This had to be his worst nightmare. Having one woman aboard a ship meant frightful bad luck, two of them merely doubled that, but three… well, all good things came in threes…

"Shh, calm down… no need to worry, you are safe." Tao whispered as she soothingly caressed his face with gentle fingers that felt so good against his hot, feverish skin. Immediately his attitude towards her changed.

He cracked a wry smile, rasping, "Angel…"

"No, my name is Tao," she corrected him and gave him some water to drink. Although she managed to spill most of it over his shirt he flashed her a grateful glance.

"Heaven… there are angels… beautiful angels…"

"He's probably delirious. Usually he condemns women aboard." Rowan interjected helpfully, but quite taken aback about his reaction. The old salt had never made a secret of disliking her, had treated Elisabeth with cautious respect- still remembering the times when she was a spoiled little girl but nevertheless high above him, a simple sailor- and yet he glanced at Tao with obvious delight as if he was charmed by her. Fortunately he fell asleep again before he could utter any further expressions of admiration.

That moment, there was a knock at the door and Bootstrap Bill entered the cabin.

"Beg yer pardon, ladies, but the Captain wants to send a message to that junk of yers, giving them our new heading."

Tao shot him a sweet smile. "And you thought I could be the one sending said message? Well, I just need my crossbow…"

She glanced around the cabin, looking for it, remembering that she had taken it along from the Wicked but she couldn't remember where she had put it. "Crossbow? Where are you?"

Unfortunately, crossbows don't answer.

Bill and Rowan exchanged glances, rolling their eyes.

"Ah, now I know…" Tao flung off her coat and rendered Bill breathless because she revealed a lot of naked skin. Her slender body was dressed in a short skirt and a corsage, both made of skintight, black leather. And though he couldn't help but admire her stunning beauty he nevertheless wished she wouldn't show it in such a careless manner. She, however, was probably considering her way of dressing as practical for there was no useless fabric impeding her movements, and she had never cared much about decency.

"Ha! There you are, you stupid thing. You should have known that you can't hide from me forever…" Triumphantly she held up her crossbow that had been attached to her belt the entire time before facing Bill again. "Well, what are you waiting for, my dear Bootstrap? Give me the heading and I will send it to the Wicked"

Rowan had a hard time trying to suppress the urge to laugh out lout since the situation was too hilarious. Tao was just typically Tao, clumsy, forgetful, and slightly chaotic, but Bill stared at her completely smitten as if these were the perfect attributes for the woman of his dreams. She shook her head, silently chuckling.

Meanwhile, Tao had scribbled the bearing of their next destination on a piece of paper and was eager to leave the cabin. Bill stopped her before she could walk out the door.

"Um, ye may want to put on yer coat again before going on deck." He suggested as he wrapped the green silk coat around her shoulders. She gave him a grateful smile that really warmed his heart and seized this gesture of his as a chance to snuggle up to him for a moment, seeking proximity which he tried to avoid. With a sigh he let go of her, pushing her away as gently as possible. "We gotta scamper. Night will fall soon."

Leaving Rowan alone in the cabin they silently headed towards the afterdeck. The sun was already setting but no one cared for the spectacular colours its last rays were painting in the sky; the mood aboard was tense since everyone was on alert, waiting for new orders. Even Jack showed some signs of nervousness given that he hated feeling trapped and merely wanted to get away from the Royal Navy and their bloody consorts. The next few hours would prove if his plan succeeded, therefore he wasn't all too pleased when he found out that Tao had apparently forgotten to bring along her quiver. Though she frantically looked for it, it was obvious that she didn't have any arrows to send a message to the junk. Slightly enervated he handed her the arrow she had shot into the mizzenmast earlier on.

"Ne'er shoot holes in me ship again, no matter how small they are," he told her, sceptically watching her taking aim. Though he knew she was a good archer he couldn't help but give her a frown as he looked over her shoulder. "Ye know, luv, I'm mightily impressed by yer skills, and yet I'm wondering- worrying- how many people ye already killed accidentally by simply trying to deliver a message?"

"Well, the last time I sent a message I missed my aim and the arrow hit the mast instead of your head… anyhow, wood is wood," Tao chirped, fluttering her lashes at Jack. She was in a splendid mood since she had just managed to inform her crew- or, to be more precisely, Rowan's crew- that they should take their time to get to their destination. She believed that having met Bootstrap again was a favourable turn of fate, good Karma like that was not to be disregarded. All she needed was just a little more time to settle things between them…

The pirates reacted in surprise when they suddenly saw the junk changing course, but then the sun set and night fell, leaving them much too busy with following their captain's orders to wonder about that. Now they had to prove they were an able-bodied crew. Every light aboard was doused, the sails were fully braced, and all of this had to happen silently. No shouts, no yells were allowed. They had to work hand in hand, in full concentration, trusting each other blindly while at the same time putting all their faith in the Black Pearl because they only had two hours to vanish into darkness and escape the Royal Navy before the moon would rise. A full moon whose pale light would treacherously reveal their real intentions, that they were not heading to Tortuga.

But Jack's plan worked out fine. The Black Pearl melted into the darkness of the night and changed tack. Then, with all canvas set and a fortunate wind from astern she picked up speed, almost flying across the waves, so that by moonrise it seemed they had lost their pursuers. Nevertheless, Jack was still in a state of unrest, not willing to give over the helm to anyone else, not willing to take a much needed break. He couldn't rest now anyway without knowing they were safe for sure, that no ship was following them.

-

Mr Cotton's parrot was the first to notice that something was amiss. Instead of cheerfully screeching and repeating the call, 'Land ho!', he remained unusually quiet. Ducking his head as if feeling uneasy he snuggled up closer to Cotton's head.

Sunrise had proven Jack's success in losing the pursuers since no naval vessel was to be seen on the horizon. Everyone aboard had breathed a sigh of relief, and the tension that had been as tight as a noose around the neck all through the night had worn off in the light of the day. The pirates praised their captain silently for his cunning escape.

Since there still were some repairs to be done- the broken fore topgallant mast had to be replaced- Jack had decided to sail to Samaná. The peninsula seemed to be the perfect hiding place, given that the Royal Navy would not dare to attack him in a smuggler's haven that was under protection of the Spanish authorities although the Spaniards wouldn't possibly want to protect him; they still bore a grudge against him for having sacked Lima. A greedy but most catholic bunch of cutthroats they were, too focussed on shiny things like a golden, life-size statue of the Virgin Mary. Fortunately the Garcia clan was not so bigoted. They would welcome him with open arms so that his crew could carry out the repairs while he'd be thinking up further plans. There had to be a way to help two lovely women in distress without having to fight and things ending up in a bloody mess…

Of course, there was also another reason for Jack to choose Samaná. There'd be rum- probably the best in the whole Caribbean.

He forgot about the rum though as they came closer. Parrot was right, there definitely was something wrong. He missed the fishing boats that were usually bopping up and down in the surf, the small smuggler ships moored at the pier, the laughter of children playing at the beach. This place seemed to be abandoned except for a cloud of various birds that flew up as the Pearl made berth. A shiver ran down Jack's spine. The air smelled of cold ash and the pungent stench of decay. It was then he noticed the whole extent of the disaster, and the shock hit him like a well-placed punch in the stomach. Nausea welled up in him as he went ashore to take a closer look.

A massacre had happened here. All the houses were destroyed, burnt to ashes, but what was worse, so much worse, were the corpses. Dead men, women, children- damned, these cruel slaughters hadn't even scrupled to kill little kids- were lying everywhere, spread across the beach. People he had known, some of them he had even liked… and yet it was almost impossible to tell who now since their faces had been rendered unrecognisable by decay, eaten away by birds and crabs. It wasn't a pretty sight.

"Reminds me of Pulau Batam… although this is even worse," Tao mumbled as she looked around, trying to figure out what had happened here. She was shocked just like everybody else. No one who had at least a little streak of compassion could bear the sight, the stench, and not be shocked.

Rowan breathed Marris' name, fearing for her former first mate, her friend. He had left her to be reunited with his family, with Anamaria and his kids- she really hoped they were not united in death now.

Bill poked in the ashes of what had once been a store and discovered a cannon ball. "They must have been attacked from the seaside, by ship…" He looked up, glancing at Jack who was unnaturally pale, his jaws set tight. "Who would be bold enough to attack a smuggler's haven and not plunder it but destroy everything?"

"They burnt all the rum…"

"Is that all you can think off- the rum?" Elisabeth snapped indignantly. Although she had been told to stay aboard the Pearl she had followed the pirates ashore nevertheless. Now she felt sick for what she had to witness but instead of regretting her decision born out of stubbornness and curiosity she rather blamed Jack. "This vile drink must have rotten your heart, otherwise you would feel sorry for all these poor people that have lost their lives, and not mourn the loss of rum. Probably you don't even know that Rosie was living here too, waiting for you, but no- the infamous captain Jack Sparrow doesn't care about anyone but himself. You are a heartless beast, the scum of mankind…"

Jack had seen enough, heard enough, and he definitely had enough of Elisabeth's bitching. All he wanted was to be left alone, to drown himself in a bottle of rum and block out these horrible scenes. Unceremoniously he pushed her aside and headed for his ship, swaying in his typically way.

Alas, Elisabeth wasn't done with him yet but kept on shouting after him. "You do remember Rose Hawkins, don't you Jack? She used to be a sweet and innocent young girl, working in my household as a nanny until you raped her and left her pregnant, carrying your bastard child"

"Shut up!" Bill cut her off, clenching his fists to stop himself from beating his daughter-in-law and hoping that Rowan hadn't heard what Elisabeth had said. But the pale impression of her face told him that his hopes were in vain. Mumbling something about having to seek Marris she walked off, leaving him to stare after her in frustration because he thought that Elisabeth's statement had thoroughly fucked up the already complicated relationship between Jack and Rowan. That wasn't good. He grabbed Elisabeth's arm and pressed it so hard she winced with pain. "Ah, and 'cause ye consider him being a rapist ye were all too willing to fling yerself onto him, sticking yer tongue down his throat?"

"She didn't do that, did she?" Tao asked taken aback. When Bill nodded it almost shocked her more than having to see half rotten bodies. "Holy dragon's shit, tell me she didn't try to screw the charming weasel while Rowan was around."

"I merely did what I had to do because I finally wanted to go free." Elisabeth pouted.

Tao arched a sophisticated brow at her. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Pouting might have looked cute on you when ye were a little girl, longing for your daddy's attention, but on a mature woman it just looks absurd and gives you wrinkles. Mark my words, dearie."

Elisabeth glared daggers at the Chinese wench, not knowing what to say, while Bill was mightily amused despite of the circumstances. He suppressed his laughter though.

"What the hell was Rosie doing here anyway? How did she get here?"

"Will took her to this place after finding out that Jack had abused her. He wanted to persuade Jack to marry her."

"Persuade? At gunpoint, perhaps?" Bill shook his head, the idea was ridiculous. Jack would have never married the virgin whore, no matter what Will had threatened him with. But what troubled him more was the fact that Will knew about Samaná. Will had been here, Will was a good friend of Beaufort… he had to tell Jack.

"My husband wanted to appal to Jack's moral centre and convince him to do the right thing. Of course, that was before we tragically had to find out that Captain Jack Sparrow was not the good man we believed him to be since he had used Will's absence to murder my father. Oh, I know what you want to say now- that Jack couldn't have done it because he was in Lima then, and probably you will tell me the same story about pinching the ring of a bishop which is just as absurd as his untenable theory that a decent man like Governor Beaufort could be involved in my father's death."

Bill rolled his eyes. Actually he didn't care what Elisabeth believed since it was merely a matter of time until the truth would come out; Rowan just had to find an opportune moment to finish reading the pile of love letters Randy Charly had written his beloved Angelo. Unfortunately, she had had to stop at nightfall, when the command had been given to douse all the lights. By then she had already found out that hidden between endless paragraphs of sweet talk, confessing unconditional love, admiration and longing, there was the reference of a plan they had. A plan to harm Jack? Bill didn't know although it was likely. After all, Jack had not only dared to reject Beaufort's advances but his manner of rejection had also caused the end of Beaufort's promising career in the East India Trading Company… it was a matter of prestige and money, and many people would stop at nothing for the sake of wealth.

He simply left Elisabeth standing there in order to follow his friend. Whatever she thought she knew about Jack was wrong anyway since Jack was anything but a heartless beast. Just because he didn't show his feeling didn't mean he had none. That became obvious when he entered the captain's cabin and saw Jack sitting on his bed, desperately embracing a bottle of rum.

"Shut up. Whatever ye have in mind to say- I don't wanna hear it now."

With a sigh Bill sat down next to him and took the bottle off his hands, glad that Mr Gibbs had been well enough to be moved to his own place this morning so that they had the much needed privacy now. He took a good sip, remembering a similar situation way back then when Jack had had to discover that the promising sound of _Africa _didn't only stand for strange beasts like hippopotami but also for a flourishing trading place, trading black gold, slaves... he shook off these memories.

"I'm not in the mood to talk either. What say ye to getting drunk together?" Bill offered as he handed back the bottle to his friend, who cracked a wry smile.

"Agreed."

They sat together in comfortable silence until Rowan walked in a while later. Jack grimaced without even looking up.

"We're having a serious but wordless conversation with this bottle so please doesn't disturb us. If ye feel like bitching, go to dear Lizzie… she's quite good at it."

"I wanted to inform ye- just in case ye care- that Marris is not amongst the dead, so it is possible that some might have survived this massacre." Rowan said, trying to sound casually.

"That's good news," he agreed before he took another swig from his bottle.

She sat down next to him and snatched the bottle out of his hands, desperately in need for a drink too. After all, the horrors they had had to witness here hadn't left her cold either and it seemed as unimportant as a prick of a pin now to even think about some wench called Rosie. Instead she longed for proximity- and rum. "Mind if I join in this wordless conversation of yours?"

Bill gave her a warm smile. "Ye're welcome."

Only a few moments passed before the next one entered Jack's cabin.

"Ah, there you are… drinking rum just like I expected," Tao chirped.

"Oh no," Jack growled. Why did everybody aboard seem to believe he needed no privacy? Why didn't they just leave him alone? Right- because he was the captain of this vessel, and as a captain he had to be available for his crew… only that Tao wasn't part of his crew. Then he saw Bill smiling like a drunken fool and decided not to say anything anymore.

"Sit down if ye wanna but don't expect us to be very chatty," Bill offered in a more placatory tone, and Tao didn't have to be told twice. She cuddled up to him and rested her head on his shoulder. Although she was quite absent-minded sometimes she nevertheless understood that everyone aboard was wound tight today, which didn't surprise her at all. After all, she knew what it was like to see the dead bodies of people you had cared for.

"So we're having sort of a common meditation on the base of rum now?"

"Aye, sort of," he chuckled silently as he passed the bottle on to her.

"Capt'n?" Silvers knocked the door but entered the cabin without waiting for a response, only to stop dead in his tracks an instant later. "Oh!"

He saw a bunch of pirates, sound asleep and cuddled up together in a mess of entwined limbs. Captain Jack Sparrow's head rested on Bootstrap Bill's chest while his arms were circled around Rowan Scarlett's waist, her flashy red hair spread all over them. Tao had snuggled up at Bill's other side. She was the first to wake up, staring sleepily Silvers.

"I know you. What's up?"

"Beg yer pardon, Miss Tao, but… um, things have occurred that need the captain's attention."

"I see." She propped herself up on one elbow to glance at Jack who was still asleep. To make sure she wagged her hand in front of his closed eyes before she turned to Silvers again. "There is no attention; Captain Jack seems to be indisposed at the moment. Of course, we had some rum last night but… I have seen you before, haven't I?"

"Aye, Miss Tao…"

"Ha, now I know!" She cut him off. "You must be little Johnny. No one else ever called me Miss Tao. Holy dragon's shit, you have grown, boy."

Silvers blushed, nodding embarrassed. "Well, it's been about twenty years now…"

"Are ye telling me I'm an old woman?"

While Silvers tried to assure her stammering that that was definitely not the case and that she looked as beautiful as ever, Jack woke up. He tried to stir but noticed that he couldn't move, and when he carefully opened an eye saw cascades of red wine shading his view. Then he remembered someone saying he was indisposed and decided to leave it this way since it wasn't that bad a feeling. After all, despite not being able to move his hands touched soft, warm and very female flesh… he wanted to dream on. Then his pillow moved as if it had a mind on its own- which it had indeed since his pillow was Bill.

"Shh… be quiet." Bill hissed, gesturing at Jack. "Let him rest. Tell me what's so urgent that ye need to wake the capt'n for."

"It's that insufferable daughter-in-law of yers, Bootstrap- sorry for being so blunt but she really is a nuisance…"

Bill sighed heavily and Jack reached out for a real pillow to pull over his head; he really didn't want to hear about Elisabeth when his hands cupped breasts that fit so perfectly in his hands. He wanted a day off.

Silvery continued, "…first, she tried to talk almost everyone aboard into a mutiny which would have been reason enough to maroon her- of course we didn't do that although the idea was tempting… like leaving her at the beach where only the ghosts of the deceased could hear her ranting."

"Why didn't you do it?" Tao asked

"'Cause she is Bootstrap's daughter-in-law and used to be a friend of the capt'n." Silvers explained the dilemma without mentioning that the captain didn't like the practice of marooning either due to personal experience. "Anyway, then she tried to steal one of our longboats…"

"What about the watch? I thought Jack had given orders to double the watch?" Now it was Bill who interrupted Silvers.

"Aye, but the watch guarding the longboats was Mr Cotton, and she knocked him out with a belaying pin before he could shout for help. Of course he couldn't have shouted for help anyway since he's a mute, and Mr Cotton's parrot had apparently deserted the ship for the pleasures of a shore leave."

"Where I come from, we tar and feather a deserter!"

"Well, the bloody parrot does have enough feathers so that wouldn't be a real threat for him. But it's not the first time I wished to pluck and fry the damned bird… unfortunately the code doesn't consider punishment for disloyal feathered crewmembers." Bill shrugged, laughing. Parrot wasn't the actual problem since that was still Elisabeth. She was canny and apparently unscrupulous enough to mean real trouble. Fortunately he found out that the crew had not been totally asleep but able to spoil her plan. She had been caught in the act and locked away in the brig.

"We're still busy with the repairs, we can't keep an eye on her all the time, and we didn't know what else to do with her." Silvers defended the crew's measures. "Now the capt'n 's to decide how to deal with Mrs Turner."

"Ye did well, Mr Silvers." Bill assured him.

"Aye, keep 'er locked 'n throw away the key," Jack slurred, still half asleep, from under his pillow. His voice hadn't improved much overnight although his throat didn't hurt that badly anymore. Instead almost every other part of his body ached. He would have felt really miserable if not for the warm, soft skin his fingers touched.

"Ye're awake?"

"Nah, ye're hearin' voices… voices tellin' ye to leave me alone 'cause I'm indisposed 'n ye gotta take over… savvy?"

"Aye, that's alright for me. I'll see to the progress of the repairs 'n report to ye later." Bill agreed quite surprised. Actually, he had already expected having to persuade Jack to take a rest since he definitely needed it, and was glad his friend didn't even offer any resistance. Was that alarming? Probably not given that Rowan had snuggled up close to Jack and they could use a moment of privacy to sort out a thing or two between them. "I'll leave ye alone with yer lovely missus."

"Hmpf," Jack grumbled. Now that Bill's mentioned it he figured that things might not be as perfect as they seemed or felt; the proximity, the warmth could be nothing but an illusion and soon she'd start nagging him about Rosie. Not good- he didn't want that. No arguments, no fights this morning. He even thought about getting up to busy himself with whatever work aboard just to avoid a confrontation, but when Rowan turned around to face him it wasn't confrontation she had in mind. Instead, she surprised him with a gentle kiss.

"Oh, 'n I almost thought ye're mad at me."

"If I were I wouldn't have let ye toy with me tits."

"I s'ppose it's a good sign then?"

"Ah, Jack," Rowan sighed; it still stung that some wench had been carrying his child since that was something she could not give him. She reached out to touch his face, her fingers trailing down his cheekbone, "it doesn't mean I'm not hurt… but, ye know, we're having a fair choice now. We can either decide to reproach each other for all the ones we screwed while being apart- which would only lead to endless arguments- or we can accept the fact that we're not perfect, that we're making mistakes, and that chastity is highly overrated. After all, we're pirates- not monks or nuns. There's no point and purpose in blaming ye for having the same needs I have, therefore jealousy is not in order."

"I honestly admire yer superior way of handling things," Jack said approvingly. No wonder he loved her so much for he knew no other woman who was as generous, forgiving and tolerant as she was. She showed true greatness.

Rowan, however, didn't feel superior at all, merely sick and tired of fighting. If their love was to stand a chance they had to forget the past two years and look ahead. It wasn't going to be easy but worth giving it a try.

"There's too much between us, luv…" he whispered in her ear but she got it all wrong and gave him a frown, the mixture of frustration and confusion clearly written on her face.

"What?" For a moment she actually feared he had given up on them. Then she saw this mischievous sparkle in his eyes and noticed that his hands had snaked their way under her shirt again.

"…too much fabric."

"Oh, I'm sure we can change that." Rowan chuckled as she hurried to undress him.

Jack winced, cursing his broken rib that seemed to spoil him having fun. "Careful, luv… apparently my bones fail to heal overnight, so ye gotta take things easy with good ol' Jack."

"D'ye want me to stop?"

"No! No, don't stop… ye might find a part o' me that's not aching 'cept for a need o' affection… just be gentle…"

-

Meanwhile, Bill and Tao walked the deck when Tao stopped at the rail to take a look at the sea. With a sigh she said, "What a beautiful morning," then she took off her silken coat. At once she had everyone staring at her, Bill included. Unfortunately he didn't seem to be as pleased at she had hoped which didn't mean he was displeased with the sight of her body either.

"Ye may want to put it back on," he said, coughing slightly.

"No thanks, it's quite warm here in the lovely Caribbean..."

"Tao," Ignoring her protest he wrapped the coat around her shoulders and shooed the crew back to work. "I'm not afraid of ye catching a cold, savvy?"

She took the opportunity to snuggle herself up in his arms, knowing her proximity would confuse him and exactly that was her intention. "So what is it you are afraid of then, dear Bootstrap?"

Her face was so close to his now, longing for a kiss Bill had to restrain himself from giving her. It wasn't that he didn't want to kiss her- quite the contrary- but it didn't seem right to try and revive a love affair that hadn't been strong enough to last. Gently he took her hands in his and held her an arm-length away.

"Oh please, don't make things more complicated than they are already. We know that it would never work between us…"

"Strange, I remember times when everything worked perfectly fine between us." Tao cut him off.

"Aye," Bill smiled, lost in reverie for a moment as he recalled those times in Singapore. Then he sighed, "I loved ye- probably I still do- but I left ye…"

"You did not leave me because of a lack of feeling. Fate kept us apart, and it's fate we met again."

"Lemme be honest, Tao. There had been a time when I wanted nothing more than to marry ye and live with ye, and a part o' me still wants that, wishing we could make a new start. But I'm scared- I'm scared of failing you once again. Ye mean too much to me to just play around with ye, and I want to spare ye frustration because no matter how much I love ye I know that there'll come a moment when love won't be enough and then I'll get restless, unsatisfied with my life, even with ye… I'll start staring at the sea, searching the horizon…"

"For black sails?"

"Aye, for black sails. This is my life," Bill spread his arms, gesturing at his surrounding, "the Pearl, the sea…I did try to live what's called a decent life; I tried hard, for my son- ye know, I was so happy when I found him again, but instead of taking the chance I'd been given and make up for all the years my boy had to miss his father, I felt miserable when I saw the Pearl leaving the harbour of Malacca, leaving me…"

"Malacca?" Tao breathed surprised, "So close and yet…"

"I wrote letters to ye," Bill hurried to say, and it was true; he had thought about her often then.

"I never got any."

"Well, I never sent 'em though I wrote almost daily... then I tore them, or crumbled up the paper for the words didn't sound right, too meaningless, too insignificant… and besides, I was still only half the man I used to be."

"Ah, my Bootstrap," Tao sighed, a knowing smile curling up her lips, as she reached out and placed her hands on his chest, right on his heart, "there's no living with you when you are without your brother, the impertinent, eccentric, obnoxious Captain Jack. I don't know why but he makes you shine, and I'm happy when you are happy. I would never even try to keep you away from him for I believe your heart is big enough for both of us"

Though it had been his intention to not start something that probably wouldn't last and therefore hurt her again, Bill suddenly recognized that there was no way to stop what had already started a long time ago. He would not behave like a daft idiot and turn down a wonderful, understanding woman who apparently loved him. Without really thinking about it he gathered her in his arms, holding her close. He heard the jesting whistles of some fellow crewmembers but ignored them as well as he ignored the nagging thought that things would not get easier by giving in to his feelings. Shit happens- live for the moment, and at the moment life was feeling damned good. Besides, how to resist a goddess who had set her pretty, thick head on getting what she wanted?

"Don't ye fear I'll disappoint ye again?"

"No," Tao gave him a frown as if this though had never crossed her mind, then she smiled at him. "But I'll be mightily disappointed if you don't kiss me at once."

This time, Bill didn't have to be told twice and he only stopped to bark orders at the crew to go back to work, wishing for privacy. There was still so much to talk about. The circumstances under which they had met again were complicated since Tao was out to revenge her brother's death while Jack wasn't really interested in that, and besides, his friend had other problems to worry about given that Beaufort had plotted a conspiracy against him. Not to forget that Rowan wanted her ship back and Elisabeth intended to wreck everybody's nerves because she could not be without her beloved husband for a couple of hours, which reminded him again that Will had tried to kill Jack in a stupid attack of jealousy. In midst of all this mayhem it almost seemed absurd to start- or to restart- a love affair.

They sat down on the steps leading to the afterdeck, fingers entwined.

"Don't worry, Bootstrap, all good things come in threes- although we never really broke apart; we merely got separated by the adversities of life. The first time it was that strange compass Captain Jack came by that caused all the trouble…"

She had warned him, Bill remembered, had tried to persuade him to stay, to not go on this journey with Jack because she had dreamt he'd die and yet not be dead… He should have listened to her foreshadowing. A shiver ran down his spine when for a second he was drowning again… the water closed over his head, the weight of the cannon dragged him down… he gasped for breath- and was fortunately snapped back to reality where the warm Caribbean sun was shining on him from a clear blue sky, and the company was definitely more pleasurable than fishes.

"…the second time I sent you away," Tao continued, "although I wanted you to stay, but you were not the Bootstrap I used to know, the one I fell in love with. I sent you on a quest to find that missing part of you, and in the end you came back to me, whole again. Therefore I positively believe that there is nothing that can keep us apart now. Besides," she flashed him a sweet smile that was so typically Tao, "you seem to forget one very important thing, my dear."

"Ah?" He arched a quizzical brow at her.

"Rowan Scarlett."

"Rowan?"

"A wonderful woman, isn't she? She's pretty- I absolutely admire her red hair- intelligent, independent, and Captain Jack's perfect match."

Bill laughed; the way she had said it almost sounded like _she'll keep him busy so that we can spend more time together._

-

The sun was shining through the big windows of the captain's cabin, the air was pleasantly warm, and a gentle tide rocked the Pearl. He could hear the soft splashing of waves caressing her hull like a lover's touch, which reminded him of Rowan's lovingly touch. After months of having angry sex, venting their frustration in a fight between the sheets, they had finally made love again, slowly and caring. He purred at the memory. Lost in thoughts he scratched his balls when he suddenly noticed that something was amiss. Rowan should be lying next to him, naked and wanton… languidly he opened his eyes.

She sat on the bed, reading, a pile of letters spread all around her. Not good, he decided with a frown since it seemed as if everything was back to business as usual.

He must have groaned disappointedly for she looked up and glanced at him, a wry smile curling up her lips. "Good morning, my lazy pirate, did ye sleep well?"

"Why are ye reading other people's love letters when ye could make love to me?"

"'Cause ye fell asleep, darling, obviously totally spent from our little encounter. Apparently the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow's getting old"

"I'm not- ouch!" He yelped when he tried to jump up and got reminded that broken ribs didn't like hasty movements. For a moment he really felt old, but fortunately he didn't get strangled, beaten, bruised or hit by a broken mast every day.

"I know." Rowan bent over to kiss the tip of his nose. "Just teasing."

"Wanna tease me, luv?"

"Not now," she sighed. "These _love_ letters are anything but useful for getting in the mood; actually they're quite the contrary. I mean, I don't have any problem with a man lusting for another as long as both agree, and there are indeed some really sensual passages but they get overshadowed by Beaufort's great plan to destroy ye…"

"He must have been madly in love with me which is understandable but definitely no reason for me to give in to just everybody's advances. It's absurd he still bears a grudge 'gainst me for having rejected him decades ago."

"All that didn't happen just because ye broke his poor little heart but because ye made a fool of him and spoiled his promising career in the East India Company. He had planned to be head of the company by now and he still craves for it more than anything else. His highest aim is to rule the world's biggest trading company, including all trading routes and every aspect of maritime trade worldwide. It's a matter of prestige combined with a hungry greed for money and influence to make him the most important man of the British empire, even more important than the king."

"Ambitious little bugger- sounds almost like high treason if ye ask me," Jack grumbled as he sat up, slowly and carefully this time. "But what's that gotta do with destroying me?"

Rowan handed him the letters. "Well, although it seems that his beloved Angelo put the idea of revenge into his head, Beaufort has definitely taken a liking to it… he ordered the attack on Samaná…"

"That's tragic, aye, but they were smugglers and their smuggling activities must have been a thorn in his greedy side he wanted to get rid off for the sake of profit. Didn't ye just say he wants to control all maritime trade? What happened is regrettable but hardly suitable for destroying Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Read that."

Jack skimmed through the page she pointed at and blanched. Apparently Beaufort had chosen to annihilate the smuggler's haven not only because the Garcias were smugglers but mainly because of him given that Samaná had always been a safe harbour for him. It made him feel miserable especially when he recalled the horrible scenes at the beach. He reached for a half empty bottle of rum that was lying next to the bed and wished he could drown his memories in it.

"Beaufort seems to be following a sick pattern since he isn't really up to killing ye- at least not yet. Instead, he wants to see ye swinging at the gallows in London the day he becomes head of his blasted East India Company, sort of a highlight of his promotion party."

"Don't worry, luv, I feel mightily disinclined to accept an invitation to that party."

Rowan rolled her eyes and nudged him gently. "Jack, this is really serious! You can't run forever- where will ye go when there's no safe hiding place anymore? Beaufort commanded the destruction of Samaná, and d'ye still remember the bounty hunter in Tortuga? Beaufort put the price on yer head though not with the intention to get ye killed but to isolate ye, to corner ye. He knows that many people treasure the prospect of gold and silver more than loyalty, and those who remain loyal he will eliminate, all yer allies and friends, everyone ye care about."

Jack was about to say that fortunately there weren't many but then he bit his lip and shut up, suddenly scared that he could lose Bill or Rowan since that was something he couldn't easily live with. Pushing this thought to the deepest corner of his mind he changed the topic.

"What about Governor Swann? Do these letters say anything that redeems me from allegedly having murdered good ol' Willoughby?"

"Indeed, and maybe that's the only positive thing. Beaufort boasts how he arranged Swann's death with all evidence leading inevitably to you. A certain Nicholas Chevalier was the man who did the dirty job though since the fine lord wouldn't dirty his own hands. But the most perfidious thing is that he first had planned to have the whole lovely family slaughtered, including Will and Elisabeth, for being friendly with ye before he decided it would be so much more enjoyable to have them loathing ye."

"And he succeeded." Jack sighed, slightly shaking his head, not understanding how far a man could go in his intention to hurt someone else. But Beaufort would probably get away with it because he was a nobleman and politician whereas he himself was merely a pirate, therefore not to be believed anyway. He glanced at Rowan, "Although, with these letters I could prove me innocence, and if I show them to Elisabeth she'll finally grasp that I'm not responsible for her father's death."

"To what point and purpose, Jack?" Swiftly, Rowan snatched for the letters to underline that she was not at all pleased with his idea and would, if necessary, stop him from doing so. "She's not to be trusted."

"Do I hear a tiny little hint of jealousy in yer charming voice?"

"Bah! 'Tis not 'bout jealously, instead ye should consider what Elisabeth would do if she knew about these letters. If she believes them to be real she might try to get them into her possession in order to confront Beaufort with the truth. Or she could show them to Will and he knows no better but to run to Beaufort. Both chances will most likely end with one of them dead and Beaufort holding the only evidence of yer innocence in his hands. Of course, Will could also choose to throw the letters away, deliberately, because he knows they can redeem ye."

"Why should he want to do that?" Jack gasped a little surprised.

"How's yer throat, darling?"

"Oh, that's why…"

"Don't underestimate him, there was so much hatred in his eyes that day at the docks that I fear he could become a foe as dangerous as Beaufort."

It was still hard to believe that the offspring of his best friend had turned against him and even more because he liked the whelp. But apparently he had to come to terms with the fact that the son was not like his father. Jack shrugged.

"Alright, so we're not gonna show the letters to Elisabeth."

"Is the effort of proving to that bitch that ye're not a cruel murderer really worth the possible consequences, or can ye live with the simply fact that everyone else aboard **_knows _**for sure ye're not?"

He raised his hands in surrender, realizing Rowan was right. If Elisabeth had at least a little faith in him she would know it. "Keep them hidden and safely locked somewhere just in case we might need 'em one day."

"Aye, in the right hands they could be useful to bring Beaufort down. By the way, there's something I'm wondering about since the massacre in Pulau Batam don't seem to fit into his sick pattern, given that ye and Chen were rivals, not allies or friends…"

"Yep, I owe him nothing. Or do I? Probably having been a pirate had been reason enough for ol' Randy Charly to get rid off him and his scallywags since piracy is a threat to his aim for controlling the maritime trade."

"Hm, but the way he praised _bello _Angelo for succeeding makes me believe it was something more personal, as if Chen had helped ye once." Rowan pointed out.

"I'm sure he ne'er helped me, he's not a noble and selfless person like me. But well, I gotta ask Bill. Maybe he knows something I might have forgotten."

Jack got dressed and left the cabin whereas Rowan still had to recover from almost choking on her laughter about the _selfless_ Captain Jack Sparrow.

Bootstrap Bill was sitting on the stairs leading to the afterdeck, holding hands with Tao, too lost in conversation to notice his captain approaching.

"Is that what ye call _seeing to the progress of the repairs_? Apparently the only progress ye have in mind is in trying to bed late Chen's lovely sister." Jack chided him, but grinned broadly when Bill looked up to him with a mixture of confusion and feelings of guilt on his face.

"I… um,"

"No matter," Jack cut him off just in time for Tao to throw in, "Said progress is a bit slow for my liking and you are definitely disturbing it even more."

"I'm inconsolably sorry, oh prized courtesan, to hear that yer skills in the art of seduction seem to have deteriorated throughout the years but I swear I'll leave him to yer care again once we finished solving the riddle why Beaufort had yer beloved brother slaughtered."

"So he really is responsible for the massacre in Pulau Batam?" Tao gasped, sniffing, and immediately Bill wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"According to Rowan, who read all the letters, he is…"

"Now what does this say about your qualities as lover when despite of being alone with you in your bed she had time to read?"

"Don't question my potency, that's still perfectly fine." Jack snapped indignantly. "It's just me rib that momentarily makes things a little… delicate- although it's merely a matter of position."

"Alright, I guess ye didn't leave yer cosy cabin to chat about the difficulties of having sex with a broken rib. Though I'm the ship's doc I can't give ye a good advice how to deal with that." Bill interfered although their little banters were always mighty amusing; he could live perfectly with that for the rest of his life. But Jack had mentioned he wanted to solve a riddle so he brought the topic back to that.

"Oh right, well- did Chen ever, at any point, may it be deliberately, accidentally or manipulatively, help me in one way or the other that could lead to the conclusion we were allies?"

"Not that I know of," Bill replied bewildered, "Why?"

"To find a common thread in a sick pattern."

"But you helped him out of a precarious situation once, Captain Jack."

Both pirates stared at Tao before their eyes locked, remembering the day when they had spared some local pirates with their small junks from being send to Davy Jones' locker by an East India Company frigate.

"So apparently we found a reason why Chen had to die." Rowan, who had just joined them, said dryly.

"Because Captain Jack helped him to escape the damnable trading company?"

Rowan nodded and told Tao what she had found out about Beaufort's motives, what drove him. For a moment they all fell silent, lost in thoughts, before Bill finally said, "I always knew it wouldn't please him to be called Randy Charly in public, especially not in front of his crew."

But Jack, simply being Jack, hadn't known better than to shout out his knowledge about Beaufort's secret liking for pretty young lads all across the sea.

"Hm, if Beaufort is desperately looking for reasons he could also blame Captain Jack for selling Chen these cannons to arm his beautiful new junk." Tao mentioned thoughtfully.

"Cannons? What cannons?" Bill arched a suspecting brow at Jack who tried to distract him by asking, "What's so beautiful about junk?", but unfortunately Bill wasn't so easy to cheat. He shot his friend a stern glance while Tao involuntarily hurried to stab Jack in the back.

"Why, the other half of the cannons you took to Ayutthaya."

"How many?"

Jack decided it would be better to pretend that some very important and therefore urgent captain's business was waiting for him somewhere, so he surreptitiously slipped away before his friend would find out that he'd always lied about the size of the Dutch warship he'd seized way back then. He was at the afterdeck, caressing the Pearl's wheel when he heard Bill cursing loudly.

"Blast! A fourty-eighter is not what I'd call a tiny ship, even less a boat, ye stupid, daft idiot!"

Jack grinned briefly- good ol' Bootstrap, always fretting. Sometimes he really made him feel like his younger brother although this feeling wasn't really that bad. Not that he would have needed someone to pamper him but knowing that someone cared was nice. Unless of course there's a freaking mad weirdo out there that had set his mind on destroying him, and if bloody Beaufort didn't scruple to slaughter some people he hadn't been overly fond of but been vaguely familiar with, what the hell would he do to those he really cared about? Jack didn't intend to wait for an opportunity to find out. Beaufort had to be stopped. But how?

He wasn't particularly keen on fighting- if possible, he preferred to avoid unnecessary bloodshed- therefore he couldn't attack Port Royal and bomb it to pieces, hoping that one ball would hit Randy Charly. There was no way he could talk himself out of it this time either given that there was nothing to negotiate about. Beaufort wanted his head and he would not present it to him on a silver tray since it felt quite comfortable being attached to his neck. Damned, it was about time to come up with a good plan!

First, he should send Bill and Rowan far, far away for under no circumstances he did want to endanger their lives and they would be in great danger if they stayed. On the other hand Beaufort had already proven that he had helpers everywhere in the world doing his dirty job for him so there wasn't any safe haven anymore. Also, who'd keep a weather eye on them and stop them from doing incredibly stupid things if not Captain Jack Sparrow? No, they were probably better off to stay in his company where he could watch over and protect them- although he might not be able to stop Tao from stumbling over her own feet.

Lost in his thoughts Jack stared at the horizon, mulling things over and over again but failing to come up with a plan that could hold to his standards. No matter how he twisted and turned it, Beaufort was definitely a hard man to predict, as slippery as an eel, and with morals so queer that even Jack had problems trying to figure him out. Only when his friends walked up to him he did suddenly realize that Beaufort did have a weak spot. He smirked slyly, _oh bello mio_.

17


	24. Angel of Death

Chapter 24- Angel of Death

Bill and Jack stood at the rail and watched the junk disappear, heading for Santo Domingo where Rowan wanted to barter a safe passage for Elisabeth's return to Port Royal. The whole crew had breathed a sigh of relief at the prospect of getting rid off her, and Mr Gibbs was probably damned happy that finally there were no women aboard the Black Pearl anymore. But despite his superstitious dislike of having a woman aboard his face had always taken on a dreamy expression when watching Tao- until Captain Sparrow had reminded him politely and yet unmistakably clearly that the clumsy goddess was Bootstrap's woman. It had been a explicit announcement that was not to be questioned.

"I wouldn't have kept ye from sailing with yer bonny lass," Jack said quietly, still staring at the sails that were slowly getting smaller in the distance. He wouldn't have let them go if there'd been another port nearby that wasn't Spanish since due to his raid of Lima he couldn't possibly sail into any Spanish port. Now he had to trust Rowan's crew aboard the junk to take good care of her and Tao while on the other hand he knew that both of them were anything but helpless women. Rowan had proven often enough how tough she was and Tao- well, at least she was perfectly able to confuse any possible attacker with her clumsiness.

"Why do I get the strange impression ye might wanna have me out of the way?" Bill replied.

Jack arched a quizzical brow at his friend, trying to appear absolutely innocent. "Why should I want to do that?"

"Because of a probably risky plan that devious mind of yers is brooding over. Therefore I'm not gonna leave ye alone 'cause someone's gotta take care of ye to stop ye from doing anything incredibly stupid."

"Mate, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

Bill slapped him slightly in the back of his head. "Aye, that's another good reason to keep a sharp eye on ye."

Jack grimaced theatrically and, giving orders to weigh anchor, headed towards the afterdeck with Bill following in his wake.

"Care to share yer plans with me?"

So far Bill only knew that Rowan and Tao were supposed to deliver Elisabeth in Santo Domingo and see to it that she'd get back home safe while the Pearl would sail to Tortuga where they were to meet again. He just didn't grasp why Jack wanted to sail to Tortuga when it was obvious that his pursuers were probably waiting there for him.

Above him, black sails were unfurled, flapping languidly at first but as soon as they were fully braced they clattered eagerly in the wind. The Pearl gained speed, leaving Samaná behind just like the junk had done before but sailing on a different course to a different destination. Finally, Jack glanced at Bill again and decided to fill him in.

"Well, ye read those letters, didn't ye?"

Bill gave him a frown. "Aye?"

"So, what sort of impression did ye get concerning the relationship between ol' Randy Charly and his _bello_ Angelo?"

"Given all the sweet talk Beaufort really adores him and- wait, now I'm getting what ye're about. The handsome Italian is his weak spot!"

"I love the way ye prove that ye have a brain and don't hesitate to make use of it." Jack said approvingly. "Now what say ye to taking advantage of this fact? We get hold of his beloved angel in prospect of having a proper leverage against Beaufort."

"To negotiate what precisely, Jack?" Bill asked sceptically, and apparently this was the question Jack hadn't been able to answer either for he thoughtfully scratched his head before he beamed.

"He could surrender and confess to all his crimes in the presence of a Navy officer."

"Unlikely, and besides, ye dunno how many of them he has bribed."

"True- I only wanted to test if ye're paying attention." Jack shrugged it off and continued, "Well, as it seems ol' Randy Charly is having a problem with me so I could challenge him to sort out our problems like real men, in a fair fight,"

"Ye expect **him** to fight fair?"

"Ye don't make any sense, Bill. When I said a _fair fight_ I meant fighting hand on hand which doesn't exclude using unfair means and nasty tricks. After all, I can't let him get away with killing everyone I never cared about just because people happen to know me."

Bill understood what drove his friend though it was more in what he had failed to mention than in the words he'd actually uttered. If Beaufort had not scrupled to kill distant acquaintances the damned bastard would be even less unscrupulous when it came to the very few people Jack really did care about, and since he knew that that included him he agreed that Beaufort had to be stopped by any and all means. Nevertheless he made a point to elbow his friend.

"How's yer rib, Jack?"

Jack winced, but then he snaked an arm around Bootstrap Bill's shoulder and leaned conspiratorially closer to him. "Mate, I happen to know the world's best ship's doc. Admittedly, he can be a pain in the ass sometimes, and he seems to be constantly fretting, but he's a very skilled man, quite effective with these sharp, li'le needles of his. I've faith in him."

"Ta, I have faith in ye too- I know that ye can beat Beaufort if it ever comes to a fight- but what if he doesn't care as much 'bout Angelo as we believe him too? What if his hatred for ye is stronger than his adoration for the handsome Italian?"

"Ye're way too pessimistic. If everything else fails I can still shoot him."

Bill sighed. "Why can't we simply skip the fighting and come straight to the shooting?"

-

Rowan had missed her crew; it was so good to see them all again and apparently they had missed her too despite of the hard times she had put them through. She had been in a really foul mood after Kalpitiya. In addition to the reoccurring nightmares that had troubled her sleep she had come to believe that Jack had left her when in fact it had been **she** who had done the leaving. But she had been too ignorant to see the truth then, therefore she had simply vented all of her frustration on her crew, not quite being herself. Most of the time they had borne it with tolerance and blamed it on her fragile state of mind, considering the horrors she'd been through while remembering the fair captain she'd been before, not giving up on her. They definitely were a loyal bunch of scallywags… and yet it wasn't like it used to be, probably would never be again, simply because the Wicked wasn't her ship. Blast, she didn't even know how to sail a five masted junk! Therefore she left it to Tao to give orders since she had already proven her nautical skills by navigating the junk from Bombay to the Caribbean, and the crew was used to follow her orders- as long as she stayed safely away from the helm or the rigging, of course. Tao's clumsiness was really legendary, nevertheless she was more than just well liked aboard. Rowan noticed that at least some of the crewmembers had bit of a crush on her.

She sat at the bow, feeling a bit superfluous while staring at the horizon and wondering whether Jack had merely asked her to see to it that Elisabeth would get home safe because he wanted to have her out of the way too. No, she decided, things had been beginning to improve between them recently so why should he want to do that? Unless, of course, he was planning one of his infamous follies- which wasn't unlikely given that he was Captain Jack Sparrow- but then there was still Bootstrap Bill to stop him, and his influence on Jack was definitely not to be underestimated. Rowan smiled at the thought of them until she heard Elisabeth bickering again. With a sigh she got up to see what was wrong now. Why couldn't this spoiled rich bitch just be grateful for the efforts they were taking to rid off her? They simply should have thrown her overboard a long time ago.

"I am not going to dress like a whore!" Elisabeth snapped indignantly at Tao's offer to give her some of her clothes. She scrutinizing the Chinese woman all over, disgust clearly written on her face.

"Actually, ye're not looking like a fine lady now either," Rowan interjected casually. If she had been into nice clothes she would have had accepted Tao's offer with gratitude, knowing that her friend had an exquisite taste when it came to fine fabrics.

"That might be because I have been abducted, humiliated and treated like a slave by ruthless pirates who didn't even scruple to lock me in their brig. Therefore I am absolutely not intending to degrade myself any further by wearing the clothes of a slant eyed pirate whore."

"Courtesan," Tao corrected her proudly, "please mark the difference. I have been trained by a master in the art of seduction to become a prized courtesan, and I could have even lay with the Emperor of China if I had wanted to. But I didn't because after meeting my dear Bootstrap I didn't want anyone else. You must admit that that separates me from any common whore."

"You just shamelessly admitted that you seduced a married man whose wife and little son were waiting desperately for him in England. Do you have no conscience at all?"

Tao glanced at Rowan, slightly confused. "I don't understand this question. I would have never questioned the position of his first wife."

_Oh no_, Rowan thought, _I'm not going to explain Elisabeth the Asian way of polygamy for she wouldn't understand it anyway, and besides, though it's making sense when hearing an Asian woman's argumentation __**I**__ wouldn't want to share __**my**__ man with anyone else either… and I'm not a jealous person… only slightly… when it comes to Jack that is…_

Elisabeth glared daggers at Tao but Rowan was spared from giving an explanation when the call, "Land ho!" came from the crow's nest. They were reaching Santo Domingo.

When the Wicked dropped anchor, Elisabeth was about to storm ashore and persuade the next decent looking man to take her back to Port Royal, but the crew blocked her way. First they had to deal with the harbour master who would probably not let them enter the town when Elisabeth blurted out that they were pirates. Fortunately, the harbour master didn't speak English anyway. He studied the forged papers Rowan handed him and willingly accepted some extra coins before he welcomed them to Santo Domingo. Alas, he didn't know of any ship that was leaving for Port Royal any time soon.

Although Elisabeth didn't speak any Spanish it became obvious to her that things were not going the way she had hoped. She elbowed Rowan. "Tell him I'm willing to pay any price. Tell him that I'm the daughter of the former governor and that I'm"

"Lass, believe me that we'll do anything to get rid off ye," Rowan cut her off while scanning the docks for a boat she could hire. There was a sloop that reminded her of the El Peregrino, Anamaria's ship. Her heart beat faster in the hope that someone might have escaped the massacre in Samaná.

Meanwhile Tao asked the harbour master politely if there was by chance any public bathhouse nearby but the man ignored her completely as if it was improper to even look at an Asian and therefore heathen woman. Probably he would have been even more shocked had he understood her question. Tao tsked and moved a bit closer to sniff at him which made her wrinkle her nose with disgust.

"You're an ignorant, stinking excuse of mankind. I really don't get why people who never bath think they can rule the world."

Rowan chuckled but didn't reply since her eyes were suddenly playing tricks on her. Was it just wishful thinking that made her see a familiar, blonde tousle-head in the crowd?

"Marris," she gasped unbelievingly, then she screamed his name, and when he actually turned his head to look in her direction she was already running towards him. Overjoyed that he was alive she flung her arms around him and kissed him soundly.

"Rowan! My, it's so good to see ye. I just can't believe it. What are ye doing here? What about the Jewel? Where's Jack? Are ye two together again?"

Before Rowan could answer or overwhelm him with even more questions, someone kicked her shin.

"My papá. Go 'way."

She looked down and only then noticed the kids clinging to their daddy's legs. Fernando shot her a shy smile, apparently remembering her. The twins however- though looking cute in their pink dresses with matching ribbons in their curly hair, surprisingly still halfway clean- smiled as innocently as little she-devils.

"My daughters," Marris explained unnecessarily but with unconcealed pride in his voice.

"Um… charming," Rowan didn't know what else to say since she hadn't come to Santo Domingo to exchange niceties about her former first mate's kids; actually she hadn't even expected to meet him here. Nevertheless it was damned good to see him, to know that he and his kids were alive. "Can ye tell 'em apart?"

"Sure," the doting daddy said and was about to tell her who was Eliza and who Elena, when he suddenly stopped to give her a frown. "Ye're not here to talk about me kids, right? I know ye're not overly fond of children…"

"They're cute, honestly." She tried to reassure him before she almost awkwardly blurted out, "How's Anamaria? I know, I'm not overly fond of her either but… we were in Samaná, we saw what had happened there… Damned, I feared ye might me dead! I was looking for ye amongst all the dead bodies, hoping ye had survived the massacre, and… well, our last goodbye hadn't been a friendly one and…"

"Shh, I'm alright, Rowan, and so are my wife and my kids. But now tell me, what are ye doing in Santo Domingo," Marris glanced at the ships moored in the harbour, "and how did ye get here? I'm seeing neither the Jewel nor the Pearl."

Rowan pointed at the junk before she called for Tao to come over and bring along Elisabeth. "That's a long story but to cut it short we hoped to find a ship heading for Port Royal to get rid off Lady Nuisance."

Elisabeth sighed frustrated at the sight of yet another pirate while Tao greeted Marris with the complaint that the people in the Caribbean were an uncivilized bunch of stinking idiots. Then she spotted his children and her attitude changed.

"Oh, are these little cuties yours?" She chirped delighted and crouched to their eye-level, addressing one of the twins. "Hello, little lass, what's your name?"

Eliza stuck out her tongue while Elena kicked at her. Though the kick wasn't a hard one, Tao managed to lose balance and landed on her butt. The twins chuckled but seemed to have develop a liking for the funny Chinese woman since they were soon crawling all over her. Tao just laughed.

Meanwhile, Elisabeth faced Marris with stubborn determination. "I know you're a good man despite being a pirate. You have children- you must know what it's like to be separated from them, so I'm pleading to the heart of a loving father for your assistance to get"

"Shut yer mouth!" Rowan barked impatiently. "Just what d'ye think we're doing here if not trying to barter a passage for yer return? Blast, I'm so fed up with ye! One more word and I swear I'm gonna gag ye. Did I make myself unmistakably clear?"

Elisabeth swallowed any protest and nodded intimidated, fearing Rowan's wrath. There was something in the female pirate's eyes that reminded her of an upcoming hurricane and she definitely didn't want to be in its centre. Marris arched a quizzical brow at his friend.

"Care to tell me what's going on?"

Rowan filled him in as briefly and yet in as much detail as possible.

"Papá. Wanna go home. Back to mamá." Fernando whined since the twins weren't letting him play with their exotic new playmate.

"Aye, Nando, we're going back in a minute." Marris patted comfortingly the head of his eldest before turning to Rowan again. "Will ye join me and meet Don Vittorio, me father-in-law? He's a very smart man- I'm sure ye'll like him- and besides, I think he really needs to hear the news ye just spilled to me."

Rowan thought about it. She didn't want to stay longer than necessary in Santo Domingo but on the other hand she hadn't seen Marris for such a long time, therefore she agreed.

"I'm sure we'll also find a way to take Elisabeth back to Port Royal," he offered with a smile. "Fortunately some of the Garcia's boats had been out at sea when the attack happened so I can grant her a safe passage."

"Thank you. I'm so glad that finally someone proves to be a decent man." Elisabeth said approvingly.

"No need to thank me, I'm just trying to do Rowan a favour."

The house in the Calle las Damas was spacious and elegant, not really the place where you would expect a smuggler's clan to live. But then again Vittorio Garcia had never been an ordinary smuggler and he still did have some influence in Santo Domingo.

Elisabeth beamed with delight when entering the house and even more when Consuelo hurried to take care of her. She led her into the kitchen to boil her some tea and feed her with cookies while busily calling for one of her daughters to bring a clean dress for Mrs Turner. Elisabeth was so glad that the nightmare was finally over.

Consuelo would have also liked to pamper the other two women her son-in-law had brought home but Marris knew that Rowan wasn't into being pampered; she was here to meet Vittorio. He hoped that by revealing the truth about the attack it would cease the desire of the hot-blooded Spaniards to take revenge since things had gotten a tad too political for his liking. There had even been talks about declaring war on England.

Vittorio was in his living room as were all other male Garcia's, and Anamaria. She got up from her chair to give Marris a warm welcome but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Rowan entering behind her husband.

"Oh no," she sighed. Then she reconsidered her attitude and greeted Rowan with the hospitality the Garcias were famous for even if she couldn't stop herself from hissing through clenched teeth, "I hope ye're not here 'cause ye're in need of a first mate since Marris is not available."

_I don't even have a ship to start with_, Rowan thought sarcastically as she faked a smile. Suddenly it struck her that even if she could get back the Jewel, things would never be the same anymore. Marris belonged here now, to his family, and though it made her feel sad she was going to accept the fact.

"Don't worry," she told her.

Tao, however, took an immediate liking to Anamaria- or maybe she just liked the fact that Ana was the only woman accepted in this gathering of Spanish machos. But aside of her fondness for strong woman she also believed they had a lot in common for they had both lost beloved family members in a massacre incited by Beaufort.

"I offer you my sincere sympathy, sister." Tao said as she hugged Anamaria tightly, who was more than just a bit puzzled.

Meanwhile, Marris introduced Rowan to his father-in-law. Vittorio was quite pleased to hear that she spoke Spanish fluently which was one of the reasons she won him over. But he was even more impressed when she filled him in with the motif for the massacre in Samaná, and thanked her for sharing it with him. Though this knowledge didn't bring back the beloved ones he'd lost, nor did it make the pain more bearable, it was almost a relief to know that it had not been an officially authorized attack but some mad man acting on selfish impulse for it had never sat too well with him that there could have been a war just on his behalf. Feeling strongly inclined to accept this solution he nevertheless believed that evil deeds had to be punished, and the idea of taking revenge had a sweet ring to him.

Ramon made a point to curse Jack Sparrow for all the trouble that had ever befallen his family and regretted not having killed him when he had the chance. "I should have shot him when he stole Ana's boat!"

"But he gave me a better one!" Anamaria reminded him.

"He seduced you!"

"Ha! Now that sounds familiar to me," Tao threw in. "Why do brothers always have to behave like overprotective, virginity-treasuring idiots when their sisters what to make love to someone?"

Ramon stared confused at the Chinese woman. "Did he seduce you too?"

"Captain Jack? No. Never. I only cared for Bootstrap and it was me who seduced him."

"However, without him there wouldn't have been an attack!"

"Ye can't blame Jack for the deeds of a madman!" Anamaria snapped.

"But if Sparrow's the one who drove him mad- why not present him the pirate's head on a silver tray?"

"Watch your tongue!" Vittorio rebuked his son. "Though I really don't know why some good and honest men like Senor Turner are insisting to keep siding up with this eccentric, egoistic scallywag we still don't have the right to condemn him or wish him ill."

"Hey!" Tao cut him off. "If you really think that my Bootstrap is a good and honest man, why don't you trust him? He doesn't love Captain Jack for no reason and though his reasons are sometimes unfathomable for me too, I nevertheless believe that he can't be so wrong with his affection."

"Aye, and Jack does have a plan for offing Beaufort." Rowan interjected optimistically although she didn't have a clue about Jack's plan at all. She merely knew that she was to meet him in Tortuga after taking care of Elisabeth's return to Port Royal.

"What is he planning then?" Vittorio wanted to know.

That moment the door opened and Elisabeth entered the room. Rowan had never been more glad to see her for all heads turned towards the stunning beauty who spared her from answering Senor Garcia's question. What a difference a nice dress could make, even a borrowed one. Elisabeth looked like a lady again and also acted like one. She curtsied to Vittorio Garcia and thanked him politely for his generous hospitality.

"You are welcome, Senora Turner. My doors will always be open for the relatives of a dear friend."

"You are too kind, Mr Garcia. Please forgive me for being so forward but I really need to go back to Port Royal immediately. My beloved children are waiting for me."

"Of course. I will see to it that one of my ships takes you home." Vittorio shot Rowan a stern glance, obviously thinking that it was very cruel to keep such a fine lady and doting mother away from home.

Rowan just shrugged and said, "Pirate."

"Father, if you don't mind I will take Senora Turner to Port Royal." Ramon offered surprisingly as he bowed to Elisabeth. "If Senora is so gracious to accept my humble offer that is."

"Oh thank you, thank you so much. I almost gave up hope that there is still a decent man in this world but fortunately you proved me wrong. When will we be leaving?"

Rowan was glad when Vittorio agreed on an immediate departure, the sooner Elisabeth disappeared out of her life the better. It was hard to believe she had actually liked her once and though disliking her had not only started the minute this bitch had stuck her tongue down Jack's throat it was nevertheless a decisive reason. She didn't mind that Jack had had affairs while they had been apart for she hadn't lived like a nun either, but having to see him kissing her- or being kissed by her- had hurt her more than she had ever expected. Fortunately he had shown her then what a real kiss was like. _Oh bloody Jack…_

"I don't like him," Tao was interrupting her thoughts.

"Who?"

"Ramon. He seems not to be a very trustworthy man."

"Sh," Rowan elbowed her. It wasn't wise to speak ill of the a son of a man whose hospitality they were enjoying and who had just offered them to stay for dinner. She wasn't overly fond of Ramon either, so it was good to know that he was on his way to Port Royal now before he could come up with even more splendid ideas like presenting Beaufort Jack's head on a silver tray. Fortunately his father was more thoughtful and less hot-blooded.

-

Captain Jack Sparrow had just finished cleaning one of his pistols and aimed it at the sky, wishing for something he could shoot at, when Bill popped up on deck.

"Try this one," he offered.

Jack's eyes widened since Bootstrap was actually handing him his favourite pistol, the one he had shot Barbossa with. Feeling a bit astounded, he arched a quizzical brow at his friend.

"Well, I found it in the smithy while looking for ye that day in Port Royal. I thought ye might wanna have it back but then completely forgot 'bout it in the course of events."

With an approving nod he took the pistol and stowed it in his sash.

"Ye don't want to check it?" Bill asked surprised since Jack was hardly what you'd call a trusting person.

"Why? I'm sure you did that for me. C'mon now, let's go. We don't have time to waste and a long way to go."

That was true since the Black Pearl wasn't anchored in the harbour of Tortuga but in a secret bay nearby. They had to walk up a steep and winded path to the top of a hill from where they could overlook Cayona town and its port. From the distance it looked almost peaceful, not like an infamous pirate haven. The setting sun cast a golden light over the town and let the sea sparkle, but Jack had no eye for the beautiful sight. Wiping the sweat off his face he cursed the sun and the fact that he still didn't have a new hat simply because he didn't want to have a new hat. He wanted to have his old one back but that had died in the fire of Will's furnace. With a shrug he took out the telescope from his pocket and started scanning the ships in the harbour, smirking grimly when he spotted the Jewel Star. Then he handed the telescope to his partner in crime.

"He's here."

Bill felt kind of ambivalent towards the news since Beaufort's pretty Italian lover was definitely not to be underestimated. Nevertheless he had faith in Jack. "So what's yer plan now? Track him down and knock him out?"

"No, no, no- don't knock him out! I feel a strong aversion to having to carry him all the way."

The two pirates glanced down to where they had come from and then down on the town before they locked eyes in silent agreement.

"Alright, I trust yer silvery tongue in talking him into joining us voluntarily and if that fails we can still persuade him at gunpoint."

Jack chuckled briefly, nudging his friend's shoulder. "Just try not to do anything stupid, savvy?"

"Ye can always trust me to do anything to save yer bloody ass, and if ye consider that stupid I'm afraid I can't guarantee on not doing anything stupid."

"Well then, let's go."

They walked in silence for most of the way since there was no need to talk until they reached the outskirts of the town and passed by the first of its many taverns. Once again it became obvious that Tortuga never slept, especially not at night, and though the hustle and bustle in the streets wasn't yet as omnipresent as in the dock area, it was nevertheless something that made Bill frown.

"I had almost forgotten just how crowded Tortuga is," he mumbled thoughtfully before turning to Jack. "How the hell are we going to find him here?"

"By doing what we're usually doing when we're here."

"Drinking and whoring?"

"_**You **_shouldn't be into whoring at all now that ye found the love of yer life again, the pretty clumsy Chinese wench who loves to mention her skills in the art of seduction- unless, of course, she's more into boasting than actually proving it." Jack cocked his head to shoot Bill a mocking glance, wondering, "Ye're not sexually frustrated, mate, are ye?"

"Blast, ye really don't have to worry 'bout me sex life, Jack!"

"Well, if it's satisfying then there's nothing to worry about and we can have a drink or two while keeping our ears open to the gossip."

"Hm…" Bill mulled over a thought that had struck him. "I doubt we'll find Angelo in one of our favourite taverns and he won't do us the favour to catch him with his pants down in one of the local whorehouses either. But where do freaks like him go to have fun?"

"It's offensive to assume I would know that."

"Well, ye grew up in Tortuga."

"That still doesn't involve me being familiar with the ways of sodomites…" Jack paused, thinking hard before smirking broadly. "Ah, now I'm getting what ye're about. Ye wanna know what parts of the town a comely lad like me had been avoiding in fear of his virtue, and of course given that we're right with presuming that a man who is sentimental enough to keep fatal love letters isn't necessarily a faithful one but does still have a sweet tooth for forbidden fruits…"

"Jack!" Bill cut him off, rolling his eyes. "Shut up. I need a drink."

"A drink would be very welcome indeed." Jack walked on, then stopped abruptly and turned around to waggle a warning finger in front of his friend's nose. "But only one. I don't want ye to get drunk again. And no whoring, savvy?"

They entered the Faithful Bride, still the best place for gossip in town. It was unfathomable though how Jack managed to find out that Angelo, alias Captain Smith, and his crew were residing in the Chanting Mermaid, a tavern in the better parts of Cayona, while Bill had only been away to fetch two pitchers of beer. Bill shook his head in disbelief.

Despite of their knowledge the two pirates stayed in the Faithful Bride and did not go chasing Angelo; it wasn't the opportune moment yet as Jack stressed. Given that every tavern was crowded at this hour he was definitely right, let alone that Angelo had hardly ever left the Chanting Mermaid since he had came to Tortuga, and besides, Jack did have another plan anyway. But what surprised Bill most was the fact that Jack actually shared it with him in detail. He was really acting kind of strange today. Contrary to his usual behaviour he shoed away all the doxies that were usually buzzing around him and seemed to be quite contented with Bill being his only company. On the other hand that was so much more than he had had all those damned years he had been sitting here, drinking and listening, hoping to hear some news of his precious Pearl. There had always been some strumpets, sure, Giselle and other whatshernames, and yet he'd been alone. Sometimes no company was preferable to paid company.

There was a reason why he had filled Bill in, or maybe more than just one reason. First, his plan might fail if Bill misinterpreted his actions and though his friend was quite good in figuring him out there was still the rashness of the Turners to be considered. Of course he could have told him to stay aboard the Pearl but he knew that a captain's order was pointless if it contradicted a protective mind- Bill would have followed him anyway and his ignorance of Jack's intentions would probably lead to the failure of his plan. Not good. Therefore it was better to keep him close so that he could keep a weather eye on him in order to stop him from doing anything stupid. But all of that were merely excuses for Jack wanting to have Bill around simply because he trusted him. They would succeed if they worked hand in hand, back to back. If only he wouldn't fear for him just because of that. The knowledge that Beaufort could really shatter him by harming the only ones he really cared about made him edgy and yet it was Bill he worried about more for he was quite sure that Rowan could take good care of herself- after all, she had already proven many times how tough she was… and it wasn't that he didn't fear for her too, but… Blast, he just hated being rendered vulnerable merely because- contrary to the general opinion- he did care about others. Things would be so much easier if he'd really be the selfish, insensitive, too full of himself fop that people saw in Captain Jack Sparrow.

Jack left the Faithful Bride an hour after midnight. It should have gotten around by now that he was in town. He had seen people sticking their heads together, secretly gossiping. Who would try to claim the price put on his head for himself, who would carry information to the privateers residing in the Chanting Mermaid? And while privateers were welcome in Tortuga, the Royal Navy wasn't, nevertheless Commodore Morrison and Captain Smith seemed to have sided up for the Dauntless had been seen on various occasions recently- probably controlling the passage to the harbour. There was a reason why Jack had chosen to drop anchor in a bay nearby.

Someone was following him, watching him. Jack entered a dark alleyway and turned around to see one of the worst pirates he'd ever met. A Frenchman called Le Grand although the name was hardly fitting- though he wasn't as small as Marty he definitely wasn't a giant either, and his most spectacular raid had been a shipload of guano. Jack rolled his eyes, wondering why people believed him to be the worst pirate. At least he had never plundered a ship full of _bat shit_.

"Sparrow!"

"Captain!" Jack corrected him with a weary sigh- why was it that people always failed to address him properly? "It's **Captain** Sparrow to ye, froggie."

"Your arrogance will soon wear off, _captain_. I'm here to collect the bounty put on you."

"Ah, and how're ye intending to achieve this presumptuously high aim? D'ye expect me to die of laughter, oh great looter of bat shit?"

"I want you to surrender or I will behead you."

Jack grimaced, all wide-eyed, mimicking fear. "Now ye're really scaring me. Strange though- I don't see yer guillotine."

Le Grand presented his sword in the most threatening way he could think of. "Surrender, Captain Sparrow. I don't want to harm you…"

"I don't want you to harm yourself so put that blade down. Tell me instead, what's the price put on me head?"

"Fifty guineas."

"I never believed Randy Charly to be such a bloody, insulting miser," Jack cursed quietly before he flashed Le Grand his golden trademark smile. "That must be quite a big sum for ye but what say ye to seventy-five guineas, and me head stays where it's looking best?"

"One hundred guineas, and I'm willing to spare your life."

"Sixty! Or my friend standing right behind ye will unceremoniously stab ye."

Le Grand laughed out loud. "You don't have any friends, Sparrow!"

He blanched though when he suddenly felt the tip of a blade at his ribs.

"Don't ye wager on that, Frenchman," Bootstrap snarled grimly, "and didn't Jack just tell ye politely that he prefers to be called **Captain **Sparrow?"

"May I introduce me dear ol' friend Bootstrap Bill to ye?" Jack asked innocently. Of course he'd known that Bill was following him, just like they had arranged it, in case that someone more menacing than Le Grand should be lying in wait for him to rake in the bounty. They hadn't expected though that all they'd have to face was a ridiculous Frenchman who looked a bit panic-stricken now. "Don't worry, froggie. Although Bootstrap's a rash and dangerous man I won't let him hack ye into pieces for being so bold to intimidate me with the presence of yer absurdity. I even won't take offence for ye actually believing that **you** could be a threat to **me **in any other way than to have me die of hysterical laughter at the sight o' ye. Actually, I'm a very generous man so I'm offering ye fifty guineas if ye take us to the Chanting Mermaid and introduce us to Captain Smith."

-

Elisabeth woke up, feeling pleasantly refreshed after a good night's sleep. The first light of a new day was gently falling in through a porthole, reminding her that though she was still aboard a ship, this ship was taking her home to Port Royal, back to the life she loved. Back home to her husband and her adorable children that she had missed so much.

It was true, there had been a time when she had dreamt about living a pirate's life, but that was long before she had come to realize that the freedom she had been seeking was strongly contradicting to her sense of personal hygiene, let alone the obvious lack of any moral centre pirates were having in general and most particularly Captain Jack Sparrow.

Fortunately, the nightmare of being held hostage aboard his damnable ship was finally over. Ramon Garcia had proven to be such a kind gentleman who definitely knew how to treat a lady like her.

Nevertheless, she suddenly started to worry because she missed the typical rocking of a ship cresting through waves; the little sloop seemed to be lying at anchor and they couldn't possibly have made all the way from Santo Domingo to Port Royal by now. Elisabeth headed for the deck where she gasped with horror since what she saw were the rocky cliffs of Tortuga. Infuriated she turned to Ramon, pouting.

"You **promised** to take me to Port Royal!"

"Si, Senora Turner, and I will keep my promise. I just have to take on another passenger and then we will be sailing straight to Port Royal."

"Another passenger?"

"Life hasn't treated my family very fairly lately and the business is slow since, so please forgive me if I'm taking every chance to make a decent living for my children."

That took the wind out off Elisabeth's sails. Of course she did understand his care for his children. "I'm sorry, Mr Garcia, you are such a fine man, and if money is the problem let me assure you that I will pay you decently once we arrive in Port Royal."

Ramon bowed politely. "You are too gracious, Senora Turner, but I cannot possibly accept money for helping such a charming lady. Your company in my only reward. I'm only asking you for one favour- please stay aboard while I'll be running errands. Tortuga is not a safe place for a fine lady."

Elisabeth promised him that but then again she hadn't expected the Dauntless to sail into Tortuga harbour. Will! He must have come to save her. Full of anticipation to finally be reunited with her beloved husband she forgot Ramon's well-meant warnings and hurried to find Will.

-

"Ciao bello." Jack greeted Angelo casually.

The Italian had just left the tavern to see who wanted to meet him so early in the morning, given that the daft Le Grand had been pretty vague about it. Now he was surprised that the pirate he had been looking for had come to seek him out.

"Captain Jack Sparrow, I assume?" He asked with a cold sneer.

Jack sketched a bow. "Captain Anthony Smith alias Antonio Belleri alias Angelo mio bello ti amo più di tutto, I assume?"

"You may call me Captain Smith."

"Smith- what an unimaginative name. The others sound so much"

"Stop prattling, Sparrow," Angelo cut him off, "what do you want?"

"Have a guess."

The Italian didn't even blink an eyes when he noticed that Jack's pistol was pointed at him, he just thought the pirate must be mad. Even if he shot him now, the sound would raise his crew in the tavern and they were perfectly capable of overwhelming this ridiculous fool so there was nothing in it for him.

The two men scrutinized each other for a minute or so. Angelo did definitely look like the statue of an ancient Italian god, radiantly beautiful in the morning light. Despite the early hour he was neatly shaven and properly dressed in elegant, exquisite clothes. He glanced at Jack with disgust.

"So much trouble just because of something like you, a dirty, rum-soaked pirate who believes that eccentricity could cover up his lack of style. Your tastelessness is an offence to my eyes."

"Oh well, I can live with that. I've already offended more than merely the eyes of people and money isn't a guarantee for style either since there's more to the meaning of style than just fancy clothes for the so called good taste is always the first refuge of the witless. But I'm not here to talk about fashion. Instead, I'm here to persuade ye… no, to ask ye kindly… no, um…. actually I'm offering ye- aye, that's it- the chance to accompany me to Port Royal."

Angelo arched a sceptical brow at Jack, thinking he had gone totally nuts. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because Randy Charly would very much appreciate to get back his _bello mio_."

The Italian blanched. Apparently Jack knew about him and Charles- but how? He felt strongly opposed to letting the pirate use him as a leverage so he tried to play for time. News had already been spread that the Dauntless had dropped anchor therefore it wouldn't take long for this shabby pirate to be teeming with the Royal Navy. Sparrow could not get away. He smiled smugly.

That moment, they both heard footsteps approaching them. It wasn't the sound the boots of naval soldiers made on cobblestones though; it sounded more like the shoes of a lady rushing over.

Elisabeth came running around the corner and stopped overjoyed when she saw Captain Smith for she knew he was a dear friend of Lord Beaufort and a decent man. She was not so pleased however having to see that Jack Sparrow was there too. Instinctively she hurried at Captain Smith's side, seeking protection.

"Oh, it's so good to see you," she breathed exhausted, sounding so utterly vulnerable that it would have melted any man's heart, "you have no idea what I have been through."

"Don't worry, Mrs Turner, you are safe now," Angelo said as he wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer. But what seemed to be a protective gesture was only meant to protect him. Would Sparrow still aim his pistol at him when he had a living shield now? No, the pathetic idiot had already lowered it.

He wouldn't have grinned so cocksure had he known that there was still a pistol pointed at his head from a roof nearby.

Jack didn't like this turn of events and most of all he didn't like the way Angelo held Elisabeth since he sensed that his caring gesture was fake.

"I won't let this ruthless pirate get hold of you again," Angelo promised. She shot him a grateful glance.

Then, all of a sudden, his attitude changed and a malicious smile curled up his lips, unnoticed by Elisabeth. "But let me tell you a secret, dear Mrs Turner. Isn't is ironic that this fool of a pirate is not half as ruthless as I am?"

Things got totally out of control now. Jack noticed a cold, metallic glitter flashing up from Angelo's hand but before he could react the Italian had already brought up a dagger and didn't hesitate to make prompt use of it. In cold blood he slit Elisabeth's throat to underline his aforementioned ruthlessness.

She died with an expression of utter disbelief on her face.

The moment Jack grasped that Angelo had just killed Elisabeth the Italian shoved her dead body at him. Out of reflex he caught her and stumbled to the ground. Blood poured out of a nasty gash like a fountain; there was blood on his hands, all over him.

"Elisabeth?" He heard Will calling for her.

An instant later Will Turner came around the corner looking for his beloved wife since he had learned that she was in town. His jaw dropped when he took in the scene.

"**ELISABETH!**" He yelled, totally shocked, and ran to the place where she was lying, bleeding, so pale… so much blood… and the damnable Captain Jack Sparrow was bending over her, blood on his hands. Will kicked the pirate in the face to shoo him away from Elisabeth.

"He killed her." Angelo claimed. "There was nothing I could do, I'm so sorry."

"I…" Jack rubbed his chin in absolute bewilderment.

"Beast! Heartless murderer! I damn the day I saved you from the gallows!" Will shouted infuriated, tears streaming down his face.

"I did not kill her, honestly," Jack tried to defend himself although it was obvious that Will would not believe him. "The hypocritical Italian bastard did."

Angelo smiled smugly; quite pleased with himself he inspected his perfectly manicured nails. There was no blood on his hands, they were immaculately clean, therefore he knew that his word would be trusted anyway.

Soldiers were approaching from everywhere now, and at the same time Bill came jumping from a roof. He grabbed Jack's arm while Will aimed his pistol at the pirate.

"Blast! Stop talking! Run!"

Bill dragged Jack along with him and started running. A shot went off but it missed the escaping pirates. Will stared in disbelief at Angelo who had clutched his arm to deflect the shot.

"Lord Beaufort wants Sparrow alive."


	25. Pink Petals

author's note: Hello **smithy,** thanks so much for your reviews. Yes, you're absolutely right- poor Will. I agree that the whelp has been through so much already- let alone that daddy Bootstrap would always chose Jack over him. But to be honest I never wasted a thought on Will when I killed Elisabeth- I simply enjoyed it too much.

Chapter 25- Pink Petals

It took a while for Jack to mentally snap back to reality, he was still shocked about the cruel and totally unnecessary slaughter of Elisabeth, as he worried about his sanity. Although he had seen Angelo slitting her throat he didn't know whether to trust his eyes anymore since all the evidence was so obviously against him that he almost believed it had been he who had done the killing. There was blood on his hands- there hadn't been any blood on Angelo's hands, not a single drop…

Then he suddenly noticed that Bill was leading them the wrong way. First, he hadn't cared for where they were running to as long as they were getting away from the naval soldiers, the wrath of Will Turner, Elisabeth... dead eyes staring at him… he shook off the memory. They were still heading in the wrong direction. He trusted Bill, but Bill didn't know Tortuga half as well as he did. Of course he was running to the parts of the town he knew best and unfortunately that was the dock area where even more bloody marines would be lingering. Not good, Jack decided; it was hard enough to keep their pursuers at bay and he definitely didn't want to run straight into the arms of those lying in wait for them. So he changed tack with the result that Bill, who still hadn't let go of his arm, was whirled around.

"This way!" Jack yelled.

Bill breathed a sigh of relief, glad that his friend was finally back his old self. It had been so strange having to drag him along when he was used to Jack leading the way, which had always worked perfectly during all of their previously hasty escapes, and there had been quite a few. He followed him without hesitation, running uphill now away from the harbour, since no one knew better than Jack how to weasel himself out of tricky situations.

Their flight led them through parts of Tortuga Bill had never seen before. Although he certainly didn't have the time to take a closer look at the scenery he nevertheless noticed that the houses were looking less shabby, some of them were actually built of solid stone. They raced along a maze of claustrophobic small alleys before Jack dragged him into an old, crooked church.

They woke a dozing priest who merely raised a confused eye at them before he fell asleep again- apparently his job as a priest in Tortuga was not a very busy- and left the church through the back entrance which led to a graveyard. Scampering past old gravestones they soon reached a high wall blocking their way. Bill got nervous; he could hear the shouts of their pursuers from in front of the church and he wondered how long it would take them to find them.

Jack raced to the left where the statue of an angel stood close to the wall, guarding the graveyard. He quickly climbed on the shoulders of the angel and from there to the top of the wall, gesturing for Bill to follow him, offering him his hand. When both of them had made it atop of the wall they suddenly heard a cracking noise as one of the angel's wings broke up and fell crumbling to the ground.

"It seems to me that angels are not what they're used to be. Here's another fallen one." Jack observed with a casual shrug before turning right and balancing on the wall for a few yards until he saw the roof of Madame Leblanc's coop underneath.

The two pirates climbed down on the roof. The very same moment their pursuers entered the graveyard, frantically looking around for the fugitives but not seeing them anywhere.

"Search the graveyard! They can't be far!" The officer in charge barked.

Meanwhile, Jack and Bill startled some clucking hens before they made their way through a hole in the fence of Madame Leblanc's little estate and disappeared between the trees of a banana plantation, still walking uphill. It occurred to Bill that Jack had probably escaped this way before, and indeed he had. A street urchin living in Tortuga needed to know where to steal eggs and fruit, and where to flee when getting caught in the act. Most of the time he had run the other way though, from the plantation to the coop, and to escape Madame's wrath he had then hidden in the church, cautiously avoiding waking the snoring priest so that he could nick a few coins from the poor box. After all, he had been a street urchin and therefore in constant need of alms- given voluntarily or not- it had become a habit of his even after Alf had taken him in. Although he had never been left hungry from that day on there was still the thrill and the attraction for forbidden things to be considered.

Jack slowed his pace when it became obvious that their pursuers had lost their trail. There weren't any noises except for the monotone chirping of cicadas; a dog barked in the distance. He would have smirked proudly for once again having managed to vanish from under the eyes of those that had been hard on his heels if he hadn't been so damned tired of all this running and hiding. The sun was burning hot from a cloudless Caribbean sky and yet a cold shiver ran down his spine when he raised a hand to wipe the sweat off his face. Red, blood read and sticky with Elisabeth's blood; the evidence of her death was on his hands. He shuddered, fighting off a flush of nausea.

Bill frowned when he saw Jack staggering towards a well, and he frowned even more when his friend started to scrub his hands in an almost obsessive manner.

"Jack!"

"I did not kill her."

"I know. Now will ye please stop hurting yerself? There's no use in scratching the skin off yer hands."

Jack stared at his reflection in the water. Dark, khol rimmed eyes stared back at him from a bloodstained face. He did look like a killer indeed..

"I did not kill her," he repeated in stubborn denial as if he had to convince himself. Then he suddenly grasped what Bill had just said and whispered surprised. "Ye know that I didn't?"

"Well, I was there too," Bill reminded him gently, wondering if his friend was losing his mind. "I saw what happened. It was the damnable Italian bastard..."

"Why didn't ye stop him then?" Jack cut him off in a sudden flush of angry frustration.

Bill didn't reply but filled a bucket full of water from the well and poured it over Jack's head to rouse him from whatever had gotten into him. It seemed to work since Jack gazed at him with eyes less clouded now although he gave the impression as if he'd just woken up from a terrible nightmare.

"Listen, Jack, I definitely would have stopped Angelo from killing Elisabeth if only it hadn't happened so damned fast and totally unexpectedly." Bill explained when he was sure that his friend would actually understand what he was saying instead of just staring straight through him in such a haunted way like he'd done before- which had given him the creeps. "I also have to admit that I was too shocked to react immediately, but I swear that I did keep a sharp eye on him from then on since I feared for ye. I watched every movement of his, ready to shoot him if he'd ever dare to threaten yer life, and I even would have shot him just to be on the safe side if only Will hadn't appeared, blocking my line of fire."

"'Tis alright, mate." Jack said placatory. "No need to defend yerself but don't pour water over me again."

Bill let out a sigh of relief since that sounded more like the Jack he knew, and he was glad to have him back. "Are ye feelin' better now?"

"What are ye expecting?" Jack gave the bloodstained sleeves of his shirt a disgusted glance, took off his shirt and stuffed it in Bill's arms before he knelt down at the well to wash thoroughly. Though he couldn't care less about being called dirty pirate he decidedly needed to have Elisabeth's blood off him; it still made him feel sick. "Pretty ol' whatshername spoiled me otherwise perfect plan by showing up and getting herself killed at the most inopportune moment which led to yer dear son believing that I'm a cruel killer because there was not a single drop of blood on _bello_ Angelo's immaculately manicured fingers, and"

"Well, ye can always trust fine gentlemen to wear gloves when doing dirty jobs."

"Gloves?" Jack arched a quizzical brow at his friend before he shrugged, whisking it away in an impatient gesture. He gave his reflection a last critical glance and rose. "However, though it does make sense it still leaves us with the fact that we're not holding any leverage against Randy Charly thanks to an unpredictable wench. Never trust a rum burner 'cause ye can always trust her to do something incredibly stupid."

"So what are we doing now? D'ye have any plan?"

"Mate, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy? Therefore I always have a plan- right now I'm planning to come up with another plan any moment, and until then we'll walk on because I have to find myself a new shirt."

They left the plantation in silence, both lost in their own thoughts as they followed a way that was leading them along stone walls marking the boarders of small orchards and gardens in the outskirts of Cayona town. Bill thought about how horrible it must have been for his son to have lost the love of his life in such a tragic way, and though things hadn't been too well between them recently, he had nevertheless felt for him Will had so frantically cried out Elisabeth's name. He had even wanted to comfort him then, although he'd known that there simply wasn't any comfort he could have given at that point, and when Will had kicked Jack in the face, accusing the pirate of having killed his wife, Bill had immediately forgotten about comforting him anyway. Instead, he had kept a sharp eye on his son because he'd suddenly figured that Will could become an even more dangerous threat to Jack's life than Beaufort was, and that was a worrisome thought.

Meanwhile, Jack had climbed over the wall of a garden where laundry was hanging to dry on clotheslines as if waiting for him; he merely had to pick a shirt. Properly dressed again he then opened a gate that led to another garden. This one belonged two-story house in Spanish style that was situated on a hill overlooking Cayona. He turned to the right where a row of bushes used to hide a secret path- and cursed because he got caught between the branches of some bougainvillea that had long overgrown said path. Frantically trying to struggle free he not only managed to tear his newly pinched shirt but was also soon covered all over with pink petals.

"Ye look lovely with all the flowers in yer hair but what exactly are ye doing there?" Bill asked, biting his lips to not burst out with uncontrolled laughter as he helped his friend to get out of the bush. As a result even more petals rained down on Jack.

"The bloody shrub won't let me pass."

"Where d'ye want to go anyway?"

Casually waggling his hand Jack pointed at the house, pink petals raining from him. Bill picked a persistent blossom from his hair- which won him an indignant glare- and concluded, "Ye want to break into this house?"

"No, I want to enter it through the usually unlocked door leading to the wine cellar."

"Ah," Bill frowned, "so it's not breaking into but stealing into it, nevertheless ye're intending to enter it unauthorized and ye sound as if ye've done it before."

"No, actually I mostly stole myself out of the house this way. Down the staircase to the cellar, through the wine cellar, then out the door and along the path that is now overgrown by a thorny shrub," Jack rubbed his arms before he slapped at Bill's fingers. "Now will ye please keep yer bloody hands off me!"

Bill raised his hands in defence and grinned although it was hard to restrain himself from picking petals off Jack. "So am I right to assume that this is Santiago's house?"

"No, this used to be Alf's house but now it belongs to Mai-Lin. Anyway, let's avoid the hostile bushes and go straight to the wine cellar."

"Don't blame the bushes for growing- it must have been decades since ye last used that path."

"Decades?" Jack snarled and stopped dead in his tracks so that Bill bumped into him. Interesting, there were still some petals falling off of him. "Are ye implying that I'm an old man?"

"Well, definitely older than the boy that used to run away in order to escape Santiago's Latin lessons."

"Aye, that boy wasn't even interested in the contents of his wine cellar but now I could use a good sip."

Keeping close to the bushes the two pirates snuck through the garden until they reached a few steps that led downstairs to a door- which was locked. So much about the usually unlocked door, Bill thought. Apparently a lot of things had changed since Jack was a young boy but then again there wasn't a lock that Jack couldn't pick. A minute later they were inside the cellar and filled a pitcher full of wine from one of the many barrels stored here.

Jack emptied half of it in one thirsty gulp before he handed the pitcher to Bill. For the first time since arriving in Tortuga he felt halfway safe which was strange because as far as he remembered he had never felt particularly comfortable in Santiago's house. Though it had been nice to have a clean bed to sleep in and never having to worry about getting enough to eat, he had run away all too often to hang around at the docks, looking at the sea, dreaming of endless horizons and unseen shores.

He would have loved to stay in the wine cellar and drown his sorrows in one of the barrels but he wasn't here to get drunk. Instead, he needed to take a look at the harbour from a safe distance. So he refilled the pitcher and gestured Bill to follow him. They scampered through the cellar until they reached a small, winding staircase. It ended on the second floor of the building. Cautiously Jack opened the secret door hidden in a painting on the wall, a battle scene, and peeked at an empty corridor ahead. Though there were many rooms branching off all the doors were closed and no one was at sight; the coast was clear. He slipped out of his hiding place and turned to the left, scurrying towards the near end of the corridor. The room he entered then looked as familiar to him as if time had stood still here, but he didn't waste his time with dwelling on sentimental memories of the past or wondering about the fact that Santiago hadn't changed a thing in his old room… there were still the same old paintings of ships on the wall, a small boat carved of wood sitting on one of the shelves filled with books he had used to like reading when he was younger… Instead he hurried straight to the window from where he had a great view at Tortuga harbour and the sea. Two ships were leaving port, and he didn't need his telescope to recognize that they were the Dauntless and the Jewel Star. So apparently the Royal Navy, Will, and the bloody villain Angelo were returning to Port Royal to give the recently deceased Elisabeth a decent burial. Jack would have taken off his hat- if only he had one- in a grand gesture of biding them farewell and paying his last respect to a wench who once had been almost like a friend to him before she he had chosen to become a nuisance. Nevertheless she hadn't deserved such a cruel and unnecessary ending. _Rest in peace and don't come haunting me again_, Jack thought without much remorse although her death still troubled him. But then again he was a pirate and therefore used to be living on borrowed time- he had known that from the very start of his pirate career and he had always lived well with the inevitable knowledge that his time could be up any day- just like he'd chosen a long time ago.

"There they go, and with them our chances of a proper leverage against Randy Charly are sailing away- bloody rum-burning wench for spoiling me plan- but the question still remaining is just how the hell will I ever get close enough to him now?" Jack wondered aloud.

"Umm," Bill cleared his throat, "if ye really wanna get close to him what say ye to me trading ye to him?"

"Now, that's got to be the most stupid plan I've ever heard of."

"Of course I meant to only pretend the trading part," Bill hurried to say but at that moment Jack hurled himself from the windowsill and grabbed Bill by the collar to give him a good shaking.

"Blast! I know that! I even trust ye to be loyal! Nevertheless I won't have ye anywhere near Randy Charly and his _bello_ Angelo, savvy? Did I make myself unmistakably clear? Now stop bothering me with so poorly thought up ideas!"

"Alright… I… I'm sorry… now stop fretting," Bill stammered, more than just a little perplexed by Jack's sudden outburst, but then he noticed that he simply was worried.

Jack let go of his friend and puffed himself up in all his eccentric glory. "I. Am. **Not** fretting just because I feel mightily reluctant to acquiesce in yer incredibly unintelligent _plan_."

"Of course not. The infamous Captain Jack Sparrow is much too full of himself and much too selfish to care about others therefore he isn't fretting unless it's just the aftereffect of all the pink petals."

"Will ye please stop pointing out that I had a brush with a bush. After all, it wasn't that spectacular."

"Such a shame ye couldn't see yerself 'cause the sight of ye was spectacular indeed. Pink suits ye," Bill chuckled.

"Anyways," Jack said pointedly to change the subject because the constant reminder of having been covered with flowers was not only embarrassing but also absolutely inappropriate for a pirate captain, "have ye finally forgotten yer incredibly stupid excuse of a plan?"

"I promise that I won't do anything stupid if ye promise that ye won't do anything single-handedly."

"Agreed."

Jack's reply came a tad too quickly for Bill's liking so he tried to stress his worried request. "Are ye gonna swear it… let's say by the Pearl?"

When Jack hesitated he knew he had guessed right. So which of them could come up with the most stupid idea? Apparently his friend thought that he could outwit Beaufort by walking straight into the lion's den all on his onesies because if no one he cared for was around no one would be harmed- except for the fool himself. Fortunately it seemed to dawn on Jack that his plan wasn't the brightest either since he gave in with a sigh. Bill noticed the worries in his eyes and thought, _so much about not fretting_. He was really wound tight today. After all, Jack didn't only have to witness Angelo killing Elisabeth, the Italian had also managed to fob off his cruel deed on him in such a devious way that he almost believed he was indeed to blame. What a truly bloody awful day.

Definitely at a loss for words Jack raised his hands in a fluttering gesture and then dropped them again. Bill placed a hand on his shoulder.

"We **have** to stand together if we want to beat Beaufort."

Their eyes locked for a moment of silent agreement before Jack cracked a confident smile and turned to invitingly hold up the pitcher of wine. "Care for a drink or d'ye prefer to meditate instead?"

Bill snatched the pitcher from his hands and took a good sip.

One hour after nightfall the two pirates walked the streets of old town Cayona and Bill was quite surprised that there was more to Tortuga than filth. He had already noticed before- when escaping the Royal Navy- that this part of the town looked cleaner, less shabby. The streets were cobbled and the houses built of solid stone instead of driftwood, although they were equally crooked. There were even some flowerpots sitting on the windowsills. He stopped for a moment to glance around, wondering how Jack managed to not get lost in this maze of small alleys. But then again there probably wasn't a stone in Tortuga that he didn't know.

"Why did we never come to this lovely place before?"

"To do what precisely?" Jack replied with an enervated sigh as he turned around to gesture depreciatory at the scenery. "There really isn't much here- unless, of course, ye wanna pick some flowers for yer bonny-lass…"

Bill cut him off laughing, still having the image of Jack covered all over with pink petals in his mind's eye. "No, no, I'll leave that to ye."

Jack shot him an offended glance and walked on. "It's **not** funny to constantly peck at a tiny mishap I happened to make. Actually it's unimaginative and just as boring as this part of town is."

With that he tossed open the door of the _Prancing Dragon_ and entered the tavern in his usual cocksure way- only to stumble about the same old bloody step once again.

Bill caught his arm to stop him from falling and making a total fool of himself. "It's not that boring," he mumbled almost inaudibly, wondering if life with Jack could ever be boring at all. Probably not.

Meanwhile Jack had figured out why he didn't like this tavern. Apart from the fact that the _Dragon_ had been Santiago's favourite tavern- and he had avoided him like the plague in the past- it seemed that some of his influence was still lingering in the air, causing him to stumble over this bloody step again and again and again. He raised his head to look around, smiling winningly when he noticed people staring at him. Fortunately his grand entrance didn't set off any mayhem like it would have in the _Faithful Bride_, which was good since he really wasn't in the mood for a cantina brawl right now. He'd definitely had enough thrills for today, more than enough.

Feeling kind of tired he took a seat in a quiet corner of the tavern, waiting for Bill to bring him a drink while keeping a weather eye on his surrounding. With a price put on your head you have to be wary, even in the finer parts of the town. He suddenly became aware that he'd probably never feel safe in Tortuga again, and that was sad since he had always considered this haven for outlaws as his home… well, when he was ashore that is for his one and only real home was the Black Pearl.

Jack and Bill sat together in comfortable silence for a while until finally the door opened and their pirate ladies walked in, just like they had arranged it two days ago. Tao looked absolutely stunning. You could always trust a formerly trained courtesan to be prettily clad for whatever occasion, and there was probably no one else but she who would actually set out to seeking revenge with at least three big chests of clothes. You could also trust her clumsiness to stumble over the same step that Jack always did, therefore he liked her. It was good to know that this malicious step didn't only trip him. But while no one had ever bothered to help him up when shaking hands with the floor it seemed as if the entire male population of the tavern would love to give the pretty Chinese woman a helping hand. He chuckled when he saw Bill hurry to shoo them all away. Well, good ol' Bootstrap could be quite protective sometimes even if his protectiveness wasn't required.

"Hello Jack."

During the little mess caused by Tao, Jack had almost forgotten about Rowan but when he stared in her eyes now something very strange happened. It felt like a punch in the stomach that set free millions of butterflies and he fell head over heels for her. Again. So he almost swept her off her feet and kissed her with such a sudden need that it surprised both of them. On the other hand, mayhap Bill had been right when mentioning earlier on that there were days when only the loving embrace of a woman can make you forget…

"Aye, I missed ye too," Rowan breathed when she finally was able to breathe again.

There was something about her that just screamed for seduction although Jack wasn't quite sure who was going to be the one to be seduced. Although she looked the same as always he noticed some small details others would have missed- the way her shirt was unbuttoned just enough to tease, or that her freshly washed red wine mane smelled of sandalwood and was flowing over her shoulders just like he loved it- but then again he was a notorious womaniser and great observer. She wanted him and he wanted her. Things could have been that simple if Bill and Tao hadn't interfered.

"So, Captain Jack, did your splendid plan succeed?" Tao chirped cheerfully before noticing that that had probably been the wrong question. You didn't have to be a great observer to notice the change in Jack's mood since his smitten smile disappeared as he grimly shook his head.

Rowan forgot at once to tell him the good news, that Marris, Anamaria and their kids were still alive, when she saw the look on his face. Gently taking his hand in her own she asked, "Oh no, what went wrong?"

Bill suggested they'd better all sit down before exchanging news, so they did.

"What was your plan anyway?" Tao inquired curiously.

"I intended to take advantage of the fact that apparently_ bello_ Angelo is Randy Charly's weak spot and therefore a proper leverage against the ol' lecher but alas dear Elisabeth managed to thwart my plan with her innate talent for materializing at the most inopportune moments…" Jack really didn't want to recall the events of the day, let alone talk about it now, so he left it to Bill to explain what had gone so fucking wrong.

Though Rowan had not forgiven Elisabeth for kissing Jack, and though she had been an incredible nuisance recently, she was nevertheless quite shocked to hear about her cruel death since it had been totally unnecessarily, a matter of pure arbitrariness.

"I'm sorry for not feeling sorry." Tao said bluntly and shrugged. "Of course I didn't know her half as well as you did but what I knew about her renders me unable to mourn her."

"Ye're absolutely entitled to make up yer own mind, but despite of all the animosities she was my daughter-in-law..."

"You are not to blame for your son's mistakes, dear Bootstrap."

_Having married Elisabeth was definitely not a mistake for Will_, Bill thought as he remembered how happy she had made his son, and he would have even felt the need to comfort him now if there weren't all those images passing in his mind's eye of Will almost throttling Jack, kicking him in the face, aiming his pistol at him- fortunately that shot had gone wrong. He shook off these thoughts by briefly kissing Tao before he decided that a lighter note wouldn't harm their conversation. No more talk about the tragic events of the day, instead he told the story of how two pirates had successfully managed to escape the Royal Navy in the outskirts of Cayona town. Of course he also mentioned Jack's brush with the bougainvillea.

Jack stopped nuzzling Rowan's hair to kick Bill's shin under the table. "Oh will you please stop spreading such degrading trivialities."

"Why, I'm sure the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow looked cute with petals in his hair," Tao chuckled. "Did you want to bring flowers for Rowan? I had no idea that you could be so… _romantic_."

"Ye don't know me at all, luv."

"I really don't know if I want to know you at all, Captain Jack, but what I do want to know is" she fell silence when it became apparent that no one was listening anyway. Jack was hiding his face in Rowan's hair, whispering something into her ear that made her blush ever so slightly. Perhaps it was better to save her question for the next day and spend the night in a more pleasant way. After all, Bill and Jack had gone through a lot today, and though they were pirates they could definitely needed the loving comfort of a woman, you didn't have to be a trained courtesan to figure that.

Jack rose from his chair stumbling because getting up was hard when still being entwined with someone. "Please excuse us, we have some serious and very private affairs to discuss."

"Ah, Rowan wants to search ye for some hidden pink petals." Bill quipped.

"Ye're way too obsessed with these petals, mate. Next time we happen to meet a bush make sure that I'll shove ye headlong in it to see if it lets ye pass."

"C'mon Jack, time for a thorough body check," Rowan interjected with a seductive voice and Jack didn't have to be told twice. He flashed Bill a broad smile and waved goodnight before darting up the stairs with Rowan.

Rowan ducked away under Jack's arm, caught his hands and pinned him to the door in order to stop him from doing just the same with her because she had different plans for him.

"Slowly," she told him. "I'll be the one who's doing the body check, savvy?"

Jack arched an amused brow at her. "Ye're intending to seduce a pirate, luv?"

Without letting go of his hands she teasingly kissed his lips, just enough to make him moan for more. But she wouldn't let him take claim of her mouth, not yet. Instead she turned her attention to the curve of his neck, inhaling his scent, nibbling her way up to his earlobe. Then she breathed, "I want to touch ye."

Her warm breath on his ears made him shiver with lustful anticipation. So, she wanted to play? Very well, he had no intention to stop her. "I love women who know what they want."

Rowan released his hands and he dropped them in an almost surrendering gesture. Very slowly she unbuttoned his shirt, button after button, taking her time to touch every bit of newly exposed skin with her fingertips. She kissed his scars, not at all deterred by them but accepting them as part of him, loving every part of him.

Jack was glad to have the door in his back for a support because his legs seemed to have turned to jelly. He leaned his head against the wood, breathing faster when her fingers brushed his nipples ever so slightly. She had rough, calloused hands but that was exactly what was so arousing. And what she did with her naughty tongue sent him nearly over the edge… Oh, she really loved to touch him, and though not a single touch of hers was manipulative but for the mere pleasure of touching him- which separated her from every other woman he knew- she nevertheless took pride in the reaction of his body, the way she rendered him quivering with desire until he was wax in her hands.

One last button. His shirt was already hanging half down his arms but no nightly breeze could ever cool his skin when she was insisting on making him burn. Then the shirt was off and in the process some last pink petals that had insidiously hidden somewhere rained from him.

"So Bill was telling the truth," Rowan laughed as she dangled one treacherous blossom before his eyes.

"'Course he did." Jack seized the opportunity- or rather Rowan- with both hands by launching himself at her. Kissing her with greedy need they staggered backwards and tumbled on the bed. The mattress gave a sound of protest.

Rowan flipped him over and pinned him down, sitting atop of him. She could feel his arousal.

"I wasn't done with ye yet."

Jack gasped when her tongue circled his navel, trailing further south while her hands were fumbling with his belts. It was getting harder for him to contain himself.

"Oh please have mercy with an ol' pirate… I swear… I haven't hidden any flowers in me pants…"

"I'm not to impress with flowers." She raised her head and glanced at him, a naughty grin curling up her lips, green eyes sparkling, framed by cascades of red hair.

"Well, what ye'll find is impressive but…" He really loved her shameless ways and the idea of what her mouth could do to him, nevertheless he begged her to stop. This was torture even if in the nicest possible way. "I don't wanna waste me shot."

Usually he would never question his potency but today's events had exhausted him and he was probably too weary to reload.

"So what do ye want, Jack?" Rowan asked teasingly as she stripped him off his pants, her eyes lingering on his naked body. He really was a handsome devil and definitely ready for her. Her own desire was throbbing between her thighs, she wanted to feel him deep inside her.

"I want my mouth on yers, my hands on yer tits and my cock deep inside ye; I want to hold ye in my arms and fu… um, make love to ye."

Needless to say that Captain Jack Sparrow always got what he wanted. She took off her clothes, aroused by the way he scanned her body. Shivering with anticipation she lowered herself onto him, letting out a wanton moan when his erection parted her nether lips and filled her. Jack's hands were on her hips, grabbing her hard as he thrust even deeper into her. She bent over to kiss him. He loved the way she took the initiative, set the pace… slowly, he liked it slowly and long-lasting until he didn't know anymore where he ended and she began. He loved the way she threw back her head, red wine hair flowing all around her, when she climaxed, and the moans that slipped from her naughty lips. There was nothing better to forget a bloody awful day. His own release shook him thoroughly; totally spent he fell asleep soon after, a satisfied smile on his face.

Rowan cuddled up next to him, watching him sleep. She ran her fingers through his hair- it was so hard not to touch him. One pink petal that must have been hiding somewhere in the mess on his head came raining down on her breast. She picked it up to put it back in place so that she could tease him come morrow.

"Pink really suits ye, darling," she whispered as she breathed a kiss on his temple.

Jack sat up with a start and fumbled for his pistol before he realized that he just had had a nightmare, although he wouldn't admit that when Rowan asked him sleepily if he was alright.

"I'm fine," he said, as he buried his head in her hair, inhaling her scent, whispering in her ear, "I luv ye."

It wasn't typical for him to say that but then again he didn't dream too often of dead friends staring at him, his hands covered with blood, Elisabeth's face turning into Rowan's- which had really startled him- so telling her was definitely appropriate.

She gave him a surprised glance. "Ye're sure ye're alright?"

"Aye, go back to sleep, luv."

Jack lay awake for a while. Though he was tired he couldn't fall asleep again so he got up. Perhaps he just needed some fresh air and besides, nature called. He left the tavern with every intention of being back in a few minutes but unfortunately things don't always turn out as expected. All of a sudden, like the famous bolt out of the blue, something hard hit his head and he blacked out...

author's note: Feedback is required if you want to find out what happened to dear old Jack.


	26. In the Hands of the Enemy

**author's note:** Don't worry, **Smithy**, Will will be relatively safe. Beaufort is only admiring him, I'm sure you'll understand that.

Chapter 26- In the Hands of the Enemy

_Atlantic Ocean, aboard the Sea Eagle_

At first glimpse of sunrise the former Commodore James Norrington left his cabin and stepped on deck to check if everything was in order. It was an old habit of his that he simply couldn't change even if he was on honeymoon and not in charge of the Sea Eagle. Mayhap he just wasn't used to be merely a passenger aboard.

The Sea Eagle was a fine little ship that made remarkable speed for a two-master; her sails were clattering cheerfully in the wind and her rigging was singing an eager tune. Her bow sent up fountains of spray glittering in the early morning sun as she crested the waves, heading for the Caribbean Sea. It wouldn't be much longer until they reached Jamaica. The temperature had increased during the last days and only yesterday they had passed the Bahamas… a smile curled up his lips as he remembered Catherine's excitement when spotting a school of dolphins…

"Good morning, Sir," Captain Henry Melvin greeted him respectfully, "I hope everything is to your satisfaction?"

Of course it was. Everything was in perfect order just like he had expected since Melvin was a very capable captain whom James had come to respect during their voyage, and he commanded a crew of able-bodied, loyal sailors, all worth their salt. Apparently Rupert Ashcroft had only the best men working for him and his secret department.

They exchanged a few polite words about wind and weather regarding their supposed time of arrival in Port Royal before Captain Melvin left James to his own thoughts and went back to the afterdeck.

_Port Royal_… so many memories were associated with that name and place, good ones as well as bad. There, his career had started- and almost ended due to the dark side of his ambition that had finally rendered him vulnerable to the call of the damned Chalice of Doom- but he didn't want to remember that horrible episode of his life now. Instead he wondered what Port Royal would be like without his former benefactor, Governor Weatherby Swann. What would it be like to meet Will and Elisabeth again? After all, he had thought he was in love with her once since she would have been such a suitable match… now he was glad that she had chosen Will Turner over him although he still wished she hadn't made a total fool out of him in public. But after all's said and done it had been the right decision of her to turn him down because he would have never been able to love her as much as he loved Cath. Sometimes it was still hard for him to believe that against all odds his dream had actually come true and that she was his lawful wedded wife now, thanks to Uncle Rupert's initiative. He really owed him a lot. That was also the reason why he constantly reminded himself that this voyage was not for pleasure only. He was- let's put it straight- to spy upon Lord Beaufort, and therefore he had spend a good amount of time since their departure from Portsmouth a couple of weeks ago with the intense study of all the files about Beaufort that Rupert Ashcroft had provided him with…

"James," Catherine's worried voice interrupted his thoughts. Her arms came circling around his waist as she breathed a kiss on his cheek, "darling, you are always up way too early and you work too much. Why don't you take things easy- or do I have to remind you that we're on honeymoon?"

"Certainly not." He smiled at her, thinking how gorgeous she looked when she was freckled all over. Though she didn't like them particularly she didn't care to carry a parasol either. Fortunately, because he simply adored her freckles. James wrapped an arm around her shoulder to pull her close to his side so that they could look out at the sea together. After weeks of seeing nothing but waves and endless horizons it was so good to finally spot some distant shorelines or hear the cries of seabirds.

"When will we arrive in Port Royal?"

"If the weather holds- and so it seems- probably tomorrow."

Catherine beamed with anticipation but James frowned a little when thinking about their destination. She elbowed him gently.

"Oh James, are you still worrying about possible dangers?"

"Of course I do not want to expose you to any danger, therefore I am studying these files all the time. I want to find out as much as possible about Beaufort so that I can protect you if necessary, and I also want to meet your uncle's expectations. He did so much for us so I must try my best to not disappoint him."

"I'm sure you won't."

"So you are willing to forgive me for spending my time with work instead of enjoying every single moment of your lovely presence? It was definitely never my intention to neglect you."

"You are not neglecting me, darling. Actually I wasn't even complaining by trying to tease you. I confess that I hate to wake up alone, worrying that our wedding had only been a dream because I still can't believe how wonderful life is and how happy I am to be your wife."

James would have loved to kiss her now but for decorum's sake he didn't- it wasn't appropriate to demonstrate affection in public, the crew could be watching. So he just breathed a brief kiss on her temple, whispering, "I love you."

"I love you too." Their hands locked; together they stared at the sea again and enjoyed their silent moment of proximity.

After a while Catherine glanced at her husband. "So, do you have any plans on what you are going to do once we are in Port Royal?"

"Well, first I will show you the town…"

"James! I meant concerning Lord Beaufort."

He wished she would not be so interested in his work, he did not want her to be involved in all this and he didn't appreciate the adventurous sparkle in her eyes. His wife was much too interested this spying business, maybe it was in her family. He blamed Rupert Ashcroft for putting the idea in her head that they could work together, _four eyes see more than just two_… If only he had not been so overly fixated on making a career when he had been in Port Royal then he probably would have a friend there- on the other hand an officer in a high position wasn't supposed to make friends with his subordinates anyway. So the only one in Port Royal he could trust was Catherine whom he didn't want to get caught up in this risky business. James almost wished he would meet Jack Sparrow… thinking of him the image of a promising young lieutenant popped up in his mind's eye… _that's got to be the best pirate I've ever seen_…

He turned to Catherine. "Did I ever tell you about Lieutenant Theodore Groves?"

"No. Who is he?"

James told her the story of Captain Jack Sparrow's spectacular commandeering of the Interceptor from under the eyes of the whole Royal Navy who could only watch him sail away in helpless bewilderment.

Catherine laughed highly amused.

"It's not that funny," he chided her although his own lips twitched too; with hindsight it was amusing if only he had not been the officer in charge then. And no surprise that Catherine was highly entertained by Sparrow's _pranks_- after all, he had married a woman with a fondness for rebels and subversive writers.

-

_Tortuga_

Rowan woke up when a ray of early morning sunshine fell through the window and she instinctively rolled over to bury her head in the pit of Jack's shoulder only to notice that he wasn't there. Slightly irritated she opened her eyes and scanned the room for him but he still wasn't there. Remembering last night's events she sat up and ran frustrated fingers through her hair, wondering why he had left her when everything was working so much better between them now. _No_, she concluded, fumbling for her clothes, _he did __**not**__ leave me._

Worried that something had happened to him since after all, there was a price put on his head she nevertheless tried to calm down and not to think the worst. Maybe he had been in need of a drink and went downstairs- or he was with Bill, the two of them seemed to be nigh inseparable lately.

Alright, it was probably not very clever to burst in a room, asking for Jack, when Jack was definitely not what Bill had in mind right now. He was busy with Tao and slightly pissed off about the disturbance, actually he would have appreciated a bit more privacy.

"Blast! Why can't ye knock!"

"Sorry, bad timing. But I'm looking for Jack; he's gone."

"He's not here sister," Tao lifted the blanket that Bill had just pulled over them to prove that they were not hiding a pirate captain in their bed, "and besides, if we had cared for company we would have invited both of you over."

Rowan blushed, Bill blushed, but Tao just smiled innocently.

"Now what d'ye you mean exactly with Jack's gone?" Bill asked impatiently, trying to cover himself with the blanket again.

"Well, I woke up and he wasn't there…"

"Maybe he just had to follow the call of nature- ever think of that before ye stormed our room?"

"Damned, I remember him leaving when it was dark and no one needs **hours **to piss!"

"Hm, given that I presuppose you know all too well how to satisfy your pirate I doubt that you have to worry about him whoring around." Tao interjected.

"Actually I'm worrying more that he's up to something stupid."

Meanwhile Bill had jumped out of bed, suddenly startled about the news. "What? He already left hours ago? Why did ye wait for the most inopportune moment to tell me? Ye should have informed me"

"I thought he'd only be gone for a moment," Rowan cut him off, "therefore I didn't worry about him and fell asleep again."

"Great! Hope ye slept well while Jack was probably in danger!"

"Oh stop bitching at me! Ye're not the only one who cares about Jack! I can hardly follow him around wherever he goes and certainly not when he's just taking a pee!"

"I don't blame ye for not following him but for falling asleep! Blast, it might have slipped yer mind that we're in a haven of cutthroats who wouldn't scruple to sell their mother if the price's right, and there is a tempting price put on Jack's head!"

"May I have a word in that…" Tao started but Bill and Rowan silenced her by barking "**NO!**" in perfect unison.

"I have not forgotten that!" Rowan continued. "But did it ne'er cross yer mind that Jack might have left to do something incredibly stupid single-handedly?"

"No."

"Ah, and why not?"

"'Cause we already talked about that and he promised me" Her 'tsk' rendered him silent for a second before he snapped angrily, "I don't know 'bout _ye_ but Jack does keep the promises he gives to _me_!"

"**SHUT UP**! Both of you!" To underline her words Tao smashed a heavy candelabra on the floor which made an impressive noise. "Will you please stop your silly competition on who cares more about Captain Jack since that does not lead to anything intelligent?"

Flabbergasted, Rowan and Bill stared at Tao who thought that finally she would get the chance to speak up what was on her mind and not only since this morning. Alas, Bootstrap did not intend to hear her out, instead he rather seemed to feel the urge to prove Rowan that he was right. He was so determined that he almost forgot that he was still stark naked.

"D'ye want to show yer li'le pirate to the whole world?" Rowan reminded him sarcastically before he could drag her out of the room.

He looked down at himself to the tattoo right above his public hair and grabbed for his pants that Tao were helpfully holding out to him, a sweet smile on her face although she let out a sigh.

"I'm wondering on whom Captain Jack's madness has rubbed off more… but maybe you longnoses are all mad. Did none of you ever wonder…?" No, apparently not because Rowan and the now halfway decently dressed Bootstrap scampered out of the room and into the one Jack had rented. She followed them and noticed some faded pink petals on the floor.

In the meantime Bill had found something else and more significant than wilted blossoms. He held up Jack's belt with his sword, and his pistol, in front of Rowan's eyes.

"Now would he ever leave without his effects, especially if he had really intended on going solo?" He asked and managed made it sound like an accusation to her ears.

"Ne'er thought about that," Rowan had to confess. She scratched her head, wondering why she had failed to notice these things. Now she really worried about Jack. A shiver ran down her spine as she shot Bill a concerned glance. "So ye believe someone captured Jack because of the price put on his head?"

"Aye." He restrained himself from adding a nasty comment about her having fallen asleep simply because he wasn't any better- he had preferred to be with Tao instead of keeping a weather eye on his friend- and also because she looked just as miserable as he felt. Bill clenched his fist. "Damned, we gotta find him…"

"But where to look first?"

"Holy dragon's shit! When will you finally listen to me?" Tao interjected impatiently. "You keep asking yourself the wrong questions over and over again."

"So what would be- according to yer opinion- the right question, _dearest __**sister**_?" Rowan snapped pointedly.

Tao didn't take any offence but answered calmly. "Well, if someone asked me why things had gone so dreadfully wrong recently I would start to wonder about one thing in particular and that is"

"Spill it out, luv!" Bill cut her off.

"Alright, so did you ever wonder why Elisabeth popped up in Tortuga to get herself killed?"

Bill and Rowan stared at each other, then at Tao. They had been shocked about Elisabeth's death, had felt sorry for her, for Will, and for Jack; Bill had spent some time to reassure his friend that he was not the one to blame, Jack had complained several times that she always showed up at the most inopportune moments, but none of them had asked the question why Elisabeth was in Tortuga when she was supposed to be aboard a ship heading for Port Royal.

"Rowan, I expected at least you to use your brain. Do you still remember with whom we left dear Elisabeth?"

"Aye… Ramon Garcia..."

"The very same man who suggested presenting Beaufort Jack's head on a silver tray..."

"What?" Bill barked unbelievingly. "Ramon? But that doesn't make any sense at all!"

"Of course not. He's a man and men in general don't make much sense at all. Think about it, Bootstrap dear…"

"Ye just disputed me the ability to think 'cause I'm a man too."

"Well, usually you are the exception which proves the rule." She flashed him her sweetest smile before she continued. "Anyway, we know that Elisabeth sailed away with Ramon, we also know that she got killed here in Tortuga, so unless she changed her mind and swam here- very unlikely- it's a fair guess that Ramon is here too. And now Jack's gone. That's no coincidence, if you ask me."

"Ye're right," Rowan agreed. "Ramon was anything but overly fond of Jack. Bloody Spanish machos! And I had thought the Garcias were his friends."

Bill sat down on the bed and rubbed his temples, still not believing that Ramon might have betrayed Jack but on the other hand he remembered the not very friendly welcome the Garcia brothers had given him last time they visited Samaná. He sighed. "However, we really shouldn't jump to conclusions now. I believe some investigations in the dock area are in order…"

"We'll only waste time! And no, ye don't have to remind me that **I** fell asleep therefore we have to hurry now. The Black Pearl is the fastest ship in the Caribbean, we can still catch up on Ramon."

"But first we have to rule out the possibility that any of the cutthroats inhabiting this filthy place is to blame for Jack's disappearance. I don't want to sail all the way to Port Royal in vain and probably run into an ambush because the thing Jack needs last is Beaufort holding any leverage against him. We have to be very careful."

"Ha! I don't want to think of what could happen to Jack while we are _**carefully**_ avoiding taking actions!" Rowan gathered her effects, resolutely buckling on her belt with her sword, ready to do something, anything…

Tao stopped her before she could reach the door.

"No, sister, don't be so rash. I know you are worrying about your Captain Jack but so does Bootstrap, and this time he is right. We gain nothing if we run headlong into danger."

"Am I the only one who's scared of what Beaufort could do to Jack?"

"Decidedly not!" Bill cleared his throat, trying to keep his own worries at bay. Actually he feared more what Will could do to Jack if he ever got a chance to lay hands on him. Given that Beaufort wanted to see Jack swinging from the gallows at execution dock in London on the day of his promotion party he was unlikely to kill him before, which actually made him the lesser evil. He made an attempt to reason with Rowan. "Ye read the letters, ye know what Beaufort's up to. I believe that Jack will be relatively safe- locked up in a prison cell but nevertheless safe. And I swear we will get him out of there… if we're right with our assumption that Ramon got hold of him; we still need proof of that."

Rowan ran impatient fingers though her hair but came to the conclusion that Bill was right. If only she didn't feel so damned helpless and guilty for having fallen asleep again after Jack had left the room. On the other hand she knew that he wouldn't have appreciated her following him around as if the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow couldn't take care of himself. Actually there was still the chance that he was able to talk himself out of whatever situation he was momentarily in, mayhap his silver tongue could convince Ramon to not sell him to Beaufort by reminding him who was really responsible for the massacre in Samaná. Even a hot-blooded Spanish macho should grasp that Jack was not the one to blame.

Although the folks of Tortuga had an aversion to people who were asking questions and regarded them with suspicion, their attitude changed and looks turned friendly when greedy eyes spotted something shiny. If you were willing to pay for information then Tortuga was the best place for it. Of course a sweet smile was also very helpful to get people talking and hardly any man could resist the fluttering of lashes of a trained courtesan. Thanks to Tao and a fair amount of golden coins the pirates soon found out that Ramon Garcia's ship, the Serena, had left port this morning before sunrise. An old sailor remembered the ship because the Garcia Clan was well known in Tortuga- they supplied many taverns with smuggled rum- and because Ramon had carried someone aboard, wrapped from head to toe in a blanket. He cracked a joke about the Spaniard finding himself a lass too ugly to show in public.

So it was obvious that Ramon had indeed captured Jack. Bill felt the urge to do some venting and the old bastard gave him a very good reason for he lecherously stared at Tao, licking his lips.

"Gimme a kiss, puppet."

Bill's fist connected with his jaw and knocked out the man, which gained him an admiring glance from Tao.

"Thank you so much, dear Bootstrap. He smelled really awful."

"Alright, let's scamper," Rowan said impatiently. It was almost noon and they still had a long walk ahead of them, back to the bay where their ships were anchored.

At late afternoon they were finally ready to set sail when Tao boarded the Pearl with a big chest and interrupted Bill's briefing of the crew. She insisted on staying with him since she couldn't leave her man alone when he was so worried about his little brother- well, at least brother in heart. Of course Rowan had also chosen to stay aboard the Pearl simply because she preferred to be on the faster ship which left the Wicked without a captain. But fortunately there was still McCoy, so she instructed him to take over command. It was then she noticed a heated but short argument between Bill and Mr Gibbs that ended with Bootstrap resolutely walking up the stairs to the afterdeck, barking orders.

Bill caressed the smooth wood of her wheel just like Jack would have done. _Hope ye accept me as captain for a while… please help me to find yer true one…_

-

_Somewhere at Sea_

Jack woke up and decided that waking up wasn't a good idea. His head **ached **as if it was going to explode. Strange, he couldn't remember having drunk enough to deserve such a bad hangover. He wanted to stir but noticed he couldn't move and besides, even the slightest move made his head ache even more. So don't move… what had happened? He tried to recall last night's events and some blurred visions of Rowan seducing him popped up in his mind's eye… ah, that had been so damned good. She really was… _where _was she? He wanted to reach out and touch her, and once again got reminded that he couldn't move. A pang of pain shot from his head through his whole body. _Thank you, head, for the friendly reminder to lie still_… nevertheless he was not **able **to move even without the protest his head gave. He made a point to open his eyes to see what was going on, and saw nothing… only darkness.

_What the hell?_ Jack tried to curse if only he could speak but he couldn't. There was something in his mouth that rendered his words to guttural tones, and he could hardly swallow. He closed his eyes again since he couldn't see a bloody thing anyway, quite frustrated with the situation. A while later, he had long lost track of time, he suddenly noticed the slight rocking. Given that no one was rocking him to sleep- very unlikely- this could only mean that he must be somewhere at sea, probably in a boat… What he didn't grasp was **how** he had gotten from the nice and tidy little tavern room in which Rowan had so thoroughly seduced him to the lower deck of a ship at sea? It didn't make any sense. Besides, his head still ached, and he still couldn't move, see, or utter any intelligible word. Well, last he hadn't even tried again since there wasn't anyone around to talk to anyway and he would have noticed if he was in company, but apparently he was all on his onesies. There was no sound except for the splashing of a ship cresting the waves… oh, it was so good to know that at least his ears worked perfectly fine. He switched to listening, hoping that the sea could tell him more.

The sound of the waves washing around the hull told him that the ship wasn't big- one or two masts at the most two, no high decks at astern. It seemed to be the kind of boat that smugglers or local pirates favoured, nice to sail (and quite swift) in Caribbean waters but absolutely not suitable for a transatlantic crossing or to circumnavigate the world... _Great, at least that ruled out a long journey! _Jack thought, pleased with himself for a second until his brain finally decided to cooperate with him again and he became aware that he was probably being shipped to Port Royal. _Not good_. He remembered that there was a price put on his head… _who would want to pay for a bloody aching head? _**Bang!** Now he recalled the events that had led to his current situation, and that definitely did not improve his mood. After all, it was mightily embarrassing to realize that he, the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, had been knocked out while following the call of nature. That was so… degrading. Which bloody bastard of a miscreant had dared to damage his reputation in such a shameless, humiliating way? Oh, he knew that the brethren of the coast was a lie, that loyalty was purchasable, and that there were no friends amongst cutthroats- nevertheless he had hoped for a little more respect. On the other hand, didn't that fact that he was thoroughly tied up and gagged, with a sack slipped over his head, just prove his capturer's awareness of his dangerousness? It was almost flattering to know that his reputation was still feared… but it didn't make him feel any better nor did it make his head ache less. _Blast, what a bloody awful dilemma!_

How much time had passed since they had left Tortuga? As far as Jack could tell by the sound of waves they were somewhere on the high seas between Tortuga and Port Royal, not anywhere close to a shore. Waves sounded different when they were about to roll against cliffs. So there was still plenty of time to think up a plan but before that he would give his poor head a break. Sleep was a wonderful thing to cure a bad headache, and he couldn't think properly when irritating pain was bothering his thoughts… so he took a little nap.

-

_Port Royal, one day later_

The funeral of Elisabeth Turner née Swann was one of the most impressive ones that Port Royal had ever seen, even more impressive than that of Sir Henry Morgan back in 1688, since everyone of rank and name- actually the entire elite of Jamaica's high society- had attended to it in order to pay her their last respect. The priest gave a very emotional speech but Will hardly listened as he stood there at her open grave, frozen, almost petrified. He felt as if his heart had just been cut out, leaving him with no other emotion than pure hatred; hatred for Jack Sparrow since he had bereft him of his love, of his life.

His children were wailing, crying for their mummy. Although he had tried to explain it to them that she was not coming back they were probably still too young to grasp the total extent of the tragedy that had befallen his family… _he was not going to hold her in his arms ever again_… The love of his life had been unceremoniously, mercilessly, and brutally murdered by a man who had envied him his luck of having found the love of his life simply because Jack had wanted her for himself but couldn't get her. Elisabeth would have **never **lowered herself to accept the advances of a dirty, rum-soaked pirate

While he certainly didn't want to tell that to his children, he didn't have the nerve to comfort them with stories about heaven and angels either. Actually he was quite glad when their nanny took them away for he needed a moment of solitude.

Most guests had already left the graveyard but not Lord Beaufort. He was watching William Turner, thinking that grief didn't look good on such a pretty face, and since he really had a soft spot for the handsome blacksmith, he couldn't resist to place a soothing hand on his shoulder.

"If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know," he offered, admiring the touch of strong muscles under his hand. Although the lad was not as exquisitely beautiful as his Angelo he had a certain rough charm, that of a hard working man.

Will turned around, glad for the Governor's kindness. "Thank you Charles… but you can't bring her back."

"No, unfortunately not," Beaufort agreed as if he cared about Elisabeth, which he didn't, never had, "but I promise that Sparrow will be brought to justice and swing from the gallows for his ghastly crimes."

"I'd rather kill him with my own hands." Will hissed full of hatred.

"No, you will not do anything like that. Have faith in justice, have faith in me."

There seemed nothing wrong in accepting a comforting hug from someone who had become like a fatherly friend to Will, only Beaufort's reaction to holding the young Turner in his arms was everything but fatherly. Will, however, was too naïve or too consumed with grief to notice the Governor's arousal.

Meanwhile, the Sea Eagle had docked in the harbour of Port Royal and, after Captain Melvin had dealt with all the formalities, Mr and Mrs Norrington disembarked. Catherine looked around in excitement for she had never been to the Caribbean, only to India. At first glance the town looked like any English town, the architecture was the same, the streets were neatly cobbled, and the people dressed just like they did in London. She wasn't quite sure whether that was the latest fashion though since she hadn't cared much about that recently. Of course the temperature was different as well as the vegetation, and the sun was shining from a bright blue sky. Also, she saw black slaves working in the docks. There hadn't been any in India.

James noticed that the streets were less crowded than they used to be, and he recalled having heard the church bells ringing when the ship had been sailing into harbour. He wondered what was going on in Port Royal but postponed this question to a later moment since a young man was eagerly approaching him.

"Mr Norrington? Sir, my name is David Bennet and I am the caretaker of the house you rented. A carriage is waiting to take you there."

"Thank you very much, Mr Bennet. May I introduce my wife to you?"

They exchanged some more polite niceties before they headed for the carriage and James suddenly remembered why the name David Bennet had a familiar ring to him. Of course, his name was written on an envelope that Ashcroft had given him, probably a letter dealing with matters of payment for the house he had rented. He handed Bennet said letter when they were inside the carriage.

Bennet broke the seal and skimmed the text, then he arched a surprised brow at James. "Oh, I had no idea… pleased to meet you, Agent Norrington, you can always count on my cooperation."

_Agent _Norrington? James wasn't sure if he could get used to that title, he wasn't even quite sure whether he liked his new task but kept telling himself that this job was as honourable as serving in the Navy, and in the end all that mattered was that he was still serving his King and Country, only differently. He flashed Bennet an approving smile, glad to know that someone in Port Royal was willing to cooperate with him.

"Very well, Mr Bennet." James studied him for a moment. The young man looked absolutely unobtrusive but he had alert blue eyes. "I take it that you are working for Rupert Ashcroft too?"

"Yes Sir."

"Ah- well, I am sure you have noticed that the streets are unusually empty today. Would you care to elaborate on that?"

"You arrived on a very sad day for Port Royal since today is Mrs Elisabeth Turner's funeral and almost everyone…"

"What?" James cut him off with a sharp gasp. _Elisabeth was dead?_ Now he took notice that all the flags were at half mast while the carriage was passing Fort Charles. The fortress still looked as strong as he recalled it in his memories, having withstood both the earthquake and the horrible flood of 1692.

"You knew her?"

James nodded. He still remembered the young girl that had been so excited about meeting real pirates on their crossing from England to the Caribbean as well as he remembered the beautiful lady she had become. She would have been such a suitable match for him but- glancing at Catherine- never his love match. Entwining fingers with his wife, thinking about how much he loved her, the thought crossed his mind how truly horrible it must be for Will Turner to have lost his beloved wife, let alone for their poor children who would now have to grow up without the loving care of their mother.

"How did she die?"

"They say that Captain Jack Sparrow murdered her in cold blood…"

No, that didn't make any sense at all. Definitely not. Captain Jack Sparrow was a trickster, a weasel, a rebellious scallywag who gave a damn about laws or the rules of society but he was not- under no circumstances- a cold blooded murderer. Nevertheless, it was the second time now that he was accused of such a crime.

"I'm sure that is a misunderstanding!" Catherine defended the pirate.

"Mayhap, Mylady," Bennet said carefully but James was almost certain that the young man didn't believe it either, which was quite interesting.

"What do you believe, Mr Bennet?"

"Sir, my humble respect, but if I want to believe I go to church. The _**fact **_is that a certain Captain Anthony Smith has witnessed the deed. Apparently he used to be a military man but is now working as privateer for Lord Beaufort."

There was nothing wrong with that, James thought, except that he had always considered privateers not much better than pirates although they sailed in the name of the king. Probably it was a matter as shady as this spying business was. But then something Bennet had just said caught his attention.

"_Apparently_?"

Bennet smirked, appreciating Norrington's sharp wit. "Isn't it interesting that in **our **files of the Royal Navy no person by the name of Anthony Smith exists?"

"Dear God, are you trying to tell me that Beaufort manipulated the files of the Admiralty to give a villain working for him a legal background?"

"We will have to find out."

Lost in thought James stared out of the window. That moment the carriage passed the graveyard and he spotted Will Turner leaving it, looking truly heartbroken. He felt tempted to give the coachman a sign to stop but reconsidered it when he noticed Lord Beaufort at the blacksmith's side since he was not in the mood to make his acquaintance today. He could still pay Will a visit of condolence tomorrow.

Later that day, the sun had already gone down, Lord Beaufort was sitting in his office, wishing for the lights to go out in anticipation to finally meet his beloved Angelo. The house had been teeming with people lately that it had been hard to find a few moments of privacy to satisfy his needs. A hungry kiss was all they had been able to share since Angelo had returned from Tortuga. Little surprise the touch of a pretty blacksmith had been so arousing.

Displeased he looked up when there was a knock at the door. This had better be important for he was not in the mood to deal with insignificant trivialities now.

A man entered his office, pushing forward another man whose face was hidden by a sack pulled over his head. Nevertheless he seemed familiar to Beaufort; his mood improved.

"I believe you are searching for this man?" His visitor proclaimed with pride in his voice as he pulled off the sack to reveal Jack Sparrow's face. "What say you now, senor?"

"Why, I believe thanks are in order." Beaufort said politely, opened a drawer of his desk and came up with a pistol. Unceremoniously he shot Ramon Garcia straight in the head.

Jack's eyes widened. He had only now found out who his mysterious capturer had been and he was shocked that one of the Garcias had betrayed him. He was even more shocked that Beaufort had shot him on the spot.

"Pleased to meet you, Jack." Beaufort hissed in his ear as he took off his gag. Now that felt really good although he definitely didn't feel good in the presence of Randy Charly. Fortunately the creepy weirdo stepped away from him to ring a bell.

Though his hands were still tied, Jack made himself comfortable on the visitor's chair and rested his feet on the desk, unobtrusively scanning it for something he could use as a weapon, faking a relaxed attitude that he certainly didn't feel.

"I wish I could say the same, Charly. Hope ye no longer bear that stupid ol' grudge against me 'cause I rejected ye once…"

"It is very presumptuous of you to assume that I might still want you because that is definitely not the case. **You **are **not** irresistible." Beaufort sneered coolly.

"Oh good! Then I don't have to watch me back…" Jack fell silent when a bulk of a man entered the room and bowed to Randy Charly as if he wanted to lick his boots. Well, given the incredibly ugly way that fellow looked it was very unlikely he ever got to lick anything else.

"Clean up this mess, Hudson!"

Hudson glanced dumbly at Ramon Garcia's dead body before he shouldered the corpse, ready to leave the office with him. Apparently he wasn't only a most unsightly guy but also not the brightest one.

"Don't ye fear that dear Huddy might tell people of yer second best leisure activities? Ye'd be surprised just how much backstabbing is happening these days."

"I daresay that a mute is not very likely to give away secrets, especially not if he is well paid for his humble loyalty."

"Hey, Huddy, perhaps ye should find yerself a parrot talking for ye! Works very fine for Mr Cotton!" Jack quipped but Hudson didn't take any notice of him or was simply unimpressed.

Beaufort had enough. He kicked away the legs of the chair Sparrow was sitting on and he landed flat on his back, gasping for breath.

"You will have time to reconsider your attitude in jail," he politely informed the pirate, and Jack knew that a polite Beaufort actually meant him showing his worst side. What he didn't know was how bad it would prove to be.

* * *

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	27. The Worst is yet to come

Chapter 27- The Worst is yet to come

The cell wasn't really big. Actually it wasn't like the standard prison cell at all for this one was located on a lower floor, deep in the cellar of Fort Charles. _How nice of Randy Charly to give me my own private room_, Jack thought, _at least there won't be any snoring cellmates…_finally he could stretch out without bonds. He lay down on his back, arms folded under his head, and tried to think up how to get out of this mess. Beaufort wanted him to be the special guest at his promotion party, so he wouldn't kill him. Nevertheless he did not intend to enjoy the Lord's hospitality longer than necessary, nor was he going to accept the invitation to his party. He always believed that a noose around his neck didn't suit him at all.

Jack took a nap and when he woke up nothing had changed. It was so bloody dark in this hole that he couldn't tell how much time had passed, if it was night or day. It was also cold in here, a clammy chill was creeping through his bones. He thought it was very inattentive of the Royal Navy not to give their most famous prisoner a blanket, and anyway their hospitality left a lot to be desired. Jack got up and rattled at the bars.

"Hello? Anyone here?"

The only response Jack got was the echo of his own voice. _Bloody lousy service!_ He was hungry and he definitely could use a good sip of whatever booze, preferably rum. Alright, he could even do with a cup of tea. Frustrated he sat down again, fed up with captors that lacked the decency to treat him with respect…as if he was just any pirate and not the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.

Hours later there finally was a light, the light of a torch flickering across bare stone walls. The echo of footsteps approached and two soldiers arrived. One was a simple redcoat while the other one was a Navy officer, a lieutenant, and Jack was quite certain that he had seen his face before.

"Ah, am I right to assume it's breakfast time?" He said cheerfully.

The redcoat just threw a piece of bread through the iron bars before he turned to leave but the lieutenant stayed where he stood as if someone had nailed him to the ground, staring at Jack.

"Captain Sparrow," he whispered.

"Glad to know ye've heard of me and though I do understand yer fascination with looking at a legendary pirate would ye please be so kind as te gimme a cup of water, given that it is water ye're carrying in yer bucket."

"What?" Lieutenant Groves became aware that it was not appropriate for a naval officer to stare open-mouthed at a pirate, especially not if he was merely supposed to give him his daily ration of water. He filled a mug and passed it carefully through the bars. "Yes, I know you indeed. There was a time when I thought you were the best pirate ever, and I almost admired you..."

Jack thirstily gulped down the water and begged for a refill. "Ye could prove yer admiration by giving me more- for a start, that is."

"I said _almost_," Groves emphasized but he did comply to Jack's wish. "May I ask you just one question?"

"Will the answer provide me with better food than this lousy breakfast?"

"Why did you kill Governor Swann?"

Jack noticed the sad undertone in the young lieutenant's voice, no accusation but merely a longing for understanding. It was obvious that he missed Swann and that things didn't go too well for him lately, after all, he wore the uniform of a naval officer and yet he was distributing water to prisoners now.

Jack sighed, "I did **not **kill him, savvy? Apart from not having any motive for offing dear ol' Weatherby Swann I wasn't even anywhere near when this tragic incident happened but sacking the treasure of Lima. Ask the Spaniards."

Groves appeared to be reasonably puzzled, not quite certain whether to believe the pirate or not. But he wanted to, and he was easy to figure out for a man like Jack.

"Now," he purred conspiratorially, almost seductive, "isn't it strange that the new Governor showed up so soon after Swann's demise?"

_Ah, he was beginning to see, clever lad…_

"No one ever wondered about that," Groves murmured more to himself. He leant his back against the wall and took a surreptitious swig from his little silver flask he carried along ever since he had had to participate in this horrible massacre in Samaná. Life had been so much better in the days of kind old Governor Swann.

"Is that by chance rum in that li'le bottle of yers?"

Without hesitation- probably not even thinking about it- Groves handed the flask to Jack, who first took just a little sip before happily gulping down all of it. _Great rum, definitely smugglerware… interesting fellow, this Groves. A naval officer with a rebellious streak. He could be useful… _

Unfortunately Groves became aware of his improper behavior; he snatched back the flask from Jack's hands and took an almost hasty leave. But it wasn't wise to rush things anyway. If he wanted to talk the dear lieutenant into springing him from jail he needed to gain his confidence first, weasel himself into his heart and wind him round his little finger. With a smug grin on his face he made himself comfortable, trusting Groves' curiosity would cause him to return soon, and he actually did. Things were beginning to improve since the nice guy brought him something decent to eat, even offered him more rum, while he demanded naught in return but to hear some stories from Jack.

Slurping his rum Jack thought about impersonating Scheherazade and start Arabian Nights in Port Royal with the intention of feeding Groves' curiosity and pressing him into bringing him goodies every day if he wanted to hear the ending. There was no reason why he shouldn't try to make the best out of his situation and he needed to render him willing to prove his admiration- it was definitely flattering how the young lieutenant hung on his every word- but admiration alone wouldn't help him to get out of here. He had to lure him, lull him, make him question his integrity, and then pull the strings...

Suddenly he noticed that Groves' fascination with the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow was probably not the only reason why he was here. Aye, he was intrigued but just as much he seemed to almost desperately long for company as if an imprisoned pirate was the only one in Port Royal he could talk to. _Very interesting. So apparently he fell from grace which explains him working in prison instead of doing some fancy officer's stuff… gotta find out more but not today…_

He pretended to be tired and left Groves still wondering how he had managed to sack Nassau Port without firing a single shot and definitely eager enough to hear the ending…

The next morning- at least he believed it was morning since it was so damned hard to tell in a place without daylight- proved the case for Scheherazade. Groves came back just as expected. _If only he'd be a little more trusting and open the bloody door instead of carefully passing breakfast through the bars, admiration still mingled with fear… c'mon son, ye don't believe me to be so daft as to knock ye out, scamper outta here and run straight inte the arms of yer fellow redcoats? I certainly won't come up with such an incredibly __**stupid**__ an' ill-fated escape attempt…but what's with him today? He's looking as if he had a bloody awful night, dark shadows under his eyes and the pale complexion of his skin wasn't only caused by an overdose of powder… _

Jack quitted spinning a yarn with a sigh. "Alright, spill it, son. What's troubling ye?"

Mayhap the reason why Lieutenant Theodore Groves poured out his heart to a pirate was because he believed that Jack was soon going to swing from the gallows anyway, thus taking his secrets to the grave with him. Of course, he was wrong. Jack had no intention to end up with a noose around his neck and Groves simply didn't get yet that he was to be the one to help him avoid that. Actually, the fact that Groves told him all about his worries, his bad conscience for having been ordered to participate in a horrible massacre and, as a result, his loathing of Lord Beaufort made him even more vulnerable for clever manipulation… and Jack was quite a trickster. He cheered secretly without giving away anything, the expression on his face as unfathomable as ever. Although it didn't sit well with him to know that Groves was one of the slaughterers of Samaná- _alright, he had been __**ordered **__to join in this murderous party but that doesn't mean he had __**enjoyed **__it, so I'm willing to give him the benefit of a doubt that there had been no other choice for him but to obey since, despite of his rebellious streak, disobedience is simply not in his character- _he nevertheless was quite sure that he wouldn't have to waste his time in this hole for much longer. He could almost see Grove's reluctance of doing anything illicit beginning to crumble when the sound of heavy boots on stone startled both of them.

Groves jumped to his feet just in time to salute to Captain Smith, some soldiers following in his wake. He truly hated this arrogant beau with the superior rank of a captain even though he was not serving the Royal Navy but was more like a personal assistant of Governor Beaufort.

"Groves! What are you doing here?" Captain Smith alias Angelo snarled with a cold voice.

"I'm just doing my duty, Sir, providing the prisoners with bread and water." Groves replied obediently, and he was glad that Jack had already wolfed down the treacherous evidence of his privileged attendance. There was only a piece of bread and his daily ration of water left.

"Ah, and who gave the explicit order to attend to this specific prisoner?"

Groves stared speechlessly at the captain, not certain if he had understood him right. "I beg your pardon…"

"Whether or not this murderous pirate will be supplied with food or drink is **my **concern, mine alone. I don't ever want to see you lingering around here, and that is an order. Did I make myself clear?"

Groves opened his mouth to protest but fortunately reconsidered it and remained silent since objection was definitely neither wise nor appropriate. Nevertheless it didn't sit well with him that he had to leave Jack Sparrow to Captain Smith and his men.

"Ciao bello," Jack greeted Angelo with the same flippant attitude as in Tortuga but this time it gained him a punch in the stomach that made him gasp for breath. _Oh bugger! This wasn't good, not good at all…_ and it got even worse.

"Why is he not still in chains?" Angelo barked and gestured for his men to hurry up.

_**Damned! **_Jack thought when he heard the rattling of chains, the snap of shackles closing around his wrists. Before he could react- there wasn't much he could have done anyway- he was chained to the wall with only little room to move.

"Hey, don't ye think these," he rattled with the chains, "are a tad too short? I can hardly sit down…"

"Try it!" Angelo kicked Jack's legs out from under him, laughing maliciously when the chains prevented his fall to the floor, stopping him half the way down, causing him yelp with pain as his shoulders protested carrying all his weight. "I think it is perfect."

Lieutenant Theodore Groves left the prison building in a hurry, fumbling for his flask to take a swift swig but it was empty. Of course it was empty. That happens when you share your rum with an imprisoned pirate. Perhaps Captain Smith had been right for reminding him of his place. After all, he was an officer of the Royal Navy, he should know better than seeking the acquaintance of a pirate, a criminal… on the other hand, this pirate was the only one who had heard him out without calling him a girl just because he did have a conscience and he still felt guilty about having participated in a horrible raid, when he had spoken of the traumatic experience in Samaná. Jack Sparrow seemed to treasure life more than Beaufort or Captain Smith, therefore he was definitely **not **a cold blooded murderer. He had **not **killed Governor Swann- Groves believed him- and most likely he had **not **killed Elisabeth Turner either.

Lost in thoughts he bumped into a man and cursed himself for not having paid attention. He apologized profusely, then he noticed that the man looked somehow familiar to him although it took him a moment to actually recognize him because he was not in uniform.

"Commodore Norrington! Now what a surprise. I can honestly say that I'm glad to see you, Sir."

"Lieutenant Groves, a pleasure to see you again." James face brightened. He had just paid young Will Turner a visit of condolence, expressing his sincere sorrow about his tragic loss, but Turner hadn't even listened. Instead he had shouted at him, accusing him of having wanted Elisabeth for himself. His jealousy was as absurd as his manners were intolerable, especially in Catherine's presence. James was still taken aback about this rude behavior.

"Are you back for good, Sir?" Life had been so much better in the days when Governor Swann and Commodore Norrington had been in charge of Port Royal so Groves hoped for those days to return. But then again he remembered the commodore's aversion to pirates in general and Jack Sparrow in particular, therefore he opted for not telling him that the pirate was held captive in a tiny cell, left to the arbitrary whims of Captain Smith.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you but I'm not on duty. I'm on honeymoon."

"You are married? My congratulations, Sir!"

"Thank you, Lieutenant. May I introduce my wife to you?" James beckoned Catherine to come closer, smiling at her.

"Pleased to meet you, Mylady." Groves bowed politely. How could he have overlooked her? She was a fair lady with aristocratic features but she looked absolutely stunning when she smiled, showing her dimples. "Your husband is a very lucky man."

"That I am indeed."

The lieutenant was surprised to see that his former superior had actually made a love match, and it was definitely one given the way they looked at each other. He didn't know why he was surprised though, perhaps it was because Commodore Norrington had always appeared so stiff and formal, never showing any emotions, that it was good to know he was human after all.

"It's so good to finally meet you, Lieutenant Groves, I heard so much of you already." Catherine said delighted. "James speaks very well of you, and he will always remember your remark about a certain pirate."

"Ah… _that._" Groves blushed, feeling really embarrassed. "I fear that was mayhap not very well-considered, inappropriate and"

"Right."

"I beg your pardon, Sir?"

"I believe what my husband wants to say is that **you **were right." Catherine interjected helpfully.

James cleared his throat, gently elbowing his wife before she could let out that they actually owed all their happiness to said pirate. He didn't know yet whether to trust Groves or not, and he certainly didn't want to give away too much, not here and now, in the streets. "Catherine, darling, why don't we invite Lieutenant Groves for dinner tomorrow so that we can chat about good old times then?"

"Thank you, Sir. I feel very honoured and gratefully accept your kind invitation." Groves answered even before Catherine could agree, but he needed to talk to someone and this was perhaps his best chance.

It was only now that James noticed that Lieutenant Groves appeared to be troubled for he looked paler than usual and his smile failed to reach his eyes. "Are you alright?"

_No,_ Groves thought, _I'm worrying about a man I shouldn't worry about because he is a pirate, a criminal_. Of course he couldn't tell that to Commodore Norrington. Carefully weighing his words he indicated that not everything was perfect without giving away too much. It was one thing to pour out his heart to an imprisoned pirate but a totally different thing to even imagine pouring out his heart to his former superior since Norrington would merely reprimand him and remind him that orders are not to be questioned but to be followed. Or would he not? His wife had given a vague hint that he might have changed his attitude towards Jack Sparrow, so he decided to give it a try.

"Sir, there's something I have to tell you…"

"Groves!" A cold voice interrupted him and he blamed himself for having forgotten that Captain Smith seemed to have it in for him recently. With a frustrated sigh he turned around.

"Aye, Captain?"

"I need your expert knowledge and competence at the docks." It didn't sit well with Angelo that Groves was talking to strangers since he was suspicious of the soft-hearted lieutenant and his annoying conscience. "You will oversee the repairs and modifications of the rigging of my ship."

"Aye, Captain Smith!" Groves didn't want to give Smith more reasons to keep an eye on him so he bid farewell to the Norringtons. It didn't slip James' notice that he was anything but pleased, which was understandable

Watching the two naval officers leave he murmured, "What a waste of talent. There's probably nothing more dreary than to spend your day watching over men splicing ropes…" A little gasp from his wife caught his attention. "Are you alright, darling?"

"No… I mean, yes, but it's no wonder that no one by the name of Anthony Smith exists in files of the Royal Navy because that is definitely not his real name. James, the man we just met is Angelo."

James arched a surprised brow at his wife. "Are you sure?"

"Of course. No woman would ever forget his face- no offence meant, darling, but he really is a ravishing beauty. I saw him at the King's masked ball some years ago; it must have been the year he debuted, and he caused quite a stir since he was dressed as Cupid. All the young ladies swooned, hoping to gain his attention and probably ending heartbroken because he didn't seem to be interested in any of his admirers. That was his first and only public appearance as far as I know."

"Hm… and now he's here under a false name as if Beaufort wants to hide the fact that he's his adopted son…"

"Well, I think the adoption itself was merely an excuse to hide the fact that Angelo is his lover."

That made perfect sense to James although he wished Catherine didn't know anything about the mere existence of such depraved forms of lust. He wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder. "We should not waste this beautiful day with such revolting thoughts."

"Ah James, I saw the inside of a madman's harem, do you really think the idea of two men together could be shocking to me?"

_No, probably not_, and that worried James. He had not been able to spare her from staring straight into the darkest abyss of the human soul and yet she was still too adventurous for his liking, too interested in the spying business. The idea she came up with next wasn't anything he appreciated either although it was just a dinner party.

The Jewel Star no longer existed, the ship was now called _Avenging Angel_ and the modifications of the rigging Captain Smith had ordered simply proved that he wasn't the greatest of sailors. It had been sophisticated before the changes, now it was just ordinary. Of course you needed a certain fondness for ships- which Captain Smith clearly lacked- to notice that perfection had been replaced by incompetence for the alleged sake of easier handling.

Lieutenant Groves could merely shake his head about so much stupidity, knowing that the modifications would be at the expense of speed. But who was he to criticise a man like Captain Smith? Actually he couldn't care less since his opinion didn't matter anyway and the ability to think wasn't necessarily required when supervising a circle of men splicing ropes. It didn't improve his mood either when Captain Smith informed him that they were to set sail as soon as he had filled out all the paperwork in triplicate. Although he longed to be at sea again he had been looking forward to attending Commodore Norrington's dinner. It would be very disrespectful to not let him know that he was unfortunately tied up with business, and since he was sitting at a desk anyway he might as well use the opportunity to write a short note. He thought of telling the Commodore about Sparrow but reconsidered it as very unwise. Smith already had an eye on him so it was possible he might intercept his message. Therefore he kept it brief and respectfully formal.

Angelo stepped out of the shadows and beckoned the young midshipman to hand over the message he was to deliver for Lieutenant Groves. It read

_Dear Sir and Madam,_

_It is __my unfortunate task to inform you that I must decline your generous invitation. I fear that my duties do not allow me to attend at this time regardless of how much I might personally wish to renew our acquaintance._

_Respectfully and with regrets,_

_Lt. Groves_

Uninteresting. Absolutely nothing to worry about, nothing to read between the lines. Groves was naught but a pathetic little fool who didn't have the guts to be of any harm. Angelo folded the message and returned it to the midshipman.

"You may deliver it as you have been told."

The sailor saluted and scampered off.

-

Life was becoming more and more miserable with every passing hour. First it had merely been annoyingly boring to be chained to the wall with little room to move, and it was uncomfortable, _damned uncomfortable_. The chains were too short for him to sit down, the lowest he could get was to a squatting position but then the pressure on his shoulders was very painful, and besides, to squat with your arms up in the air, becoming numb, was not what Jack called comfortable either. Let alone the doubtful joy of pins and needles when he stood up and lowered his arms again. That was very unpleasant. He definitely wasn't very keen on spending his time in prison in an upright position so he made many fruitless attempts to get rid off the chains- there wasn't much else he could do to waste his time with- but the only result was that he grazed the skin at his wrists. The bloody chains however remained fixed. They were solid and new as if just made for him- _was I to feel honored now?_ He gave up fighting with them since it was useless anyway.

As time went by the darkness was getting on his nerves- well, there was a torch burning outside his cell, and it was kinda nice and cozy to watch its light flicker across bare stones, forming shadows, but that was no substitute for _**daylight. **_It already seemed to be an eternity ago since he had last seen the sun… he didn't even know whether it was night or day because here, in this bloody hole, there was only darkness. Oh, and cold… not to forget the clammy cold these walls and chains radiated, creeping through his bones. Involuntarily he shivered and was annoyed that the bloody chains had to comment on even his slightest movement with a rattling sound. Then there were moments when he enjoyed the sound since it was the only one he could hear except for his own breathing.

He was alone. Alone and forgotten? How many hours- _days?_- had passed since that nice, young lieutenant had come to pay him a visit, eager to hear about his infamous raid of Nassau port? Had bello Angelo frightened him off by reminding him of his place or wasn't he any good at impersonating Scheherazade? _Blame it on the mustache…damned, I could really use a drink, anything to drink…_

Then came a moment when he wished he hadn't longed for a drink since Angelo was quite overzealous in fulfilling his wish. Alright, maybe he shouldn't have provoked him, complaining about the lousy service, but that was still no reason to force a whole bucket of water down his throat until he almost choked on it. Coughing, puking out most of it while gasping for breath he heard Angelo's amused laugh. _That's __**not**__ funny at all…Italians have a strange sense of humor…_

Not funny either was Angelo's announcement that he won't be back for a while since he intended to go pirate hunting.

_I most certainly won't miss ye, _Jack thought when Angelo took his leave, _but pirate hunting really does have a nasty ring to it…_

-

The pirates had tried to land several times at various places along the Jamaican south coast during the last few days but every attempt had been spoiled by Royal Navy vessels on patrol. The most annoying fact was that they couldn't sink any of the British ships because at the first sound of cannon fire some more ships would appear. They simply couldn't fight a whole fleet led by the Dauntless to get access to Port Royal and spring Jack from jail. It wouldn't work that way.

Rowan rubbed her eyes and looked up from the charts she had been studying for most of the night while Bill had taken a nap- probably the first since they had left Tortuga but none of them slept well these days. Their concern about Jack kept them awake as much as it united them, and they wouldn't rest until he was free again. If only they could get to Port Royal.

Suddenly a map of Jamaica draw her attention; it was a very detailed one, a true masterpiece. Actually it was the very same one she had used the first time she had had to rescue Jack- fortunately she had saved a few of her belongings before she had let Angelo _steal _her ship. On the map she saw a road and a plan began to take shape in her head when the call, "Sails ho!", rang out on deck. She heard the feet of pirates scurrying to their stations.

"What's up?" Bill sat up with a start, wiping the sleep out of his eyes, immediately on alert.

"Probably just another naval vessel pestering us," Rowan retorted, silently cursing that apparently their attempt to land in Yallah Bay had failed too. Bloody hell! It had proven to be such a perfect place for freeing Jack in the past but the Navy didn't seem to give a damn about nostalgic memories; they merely wanted to see their coast clear of pirates.

A moment later Bill and Rowan were on deck, watching a dark vessel emerge from out of the early morning mist hovering over the sea. At first glance it looked like a ghost ship but then Rowan recognized the Jewel Star- or what had become of her. It hurt Rowan almost physically to see that the Jewel's superior rigging had been modified just to turn her into an ordinary galleon, which clearly was a masterpiece of incompetence and ignorance.

"All hands on deck! Ready the cannons!" Bill barked when he saw the orange glow of muzzle flash over at the Jewel, next thunder roared.

"Cannons are ready!" Tao replied with a smile on her face and a glowing fuse in her hand; she loved cannons. If you didn't let her anywhere near the powder magazine with a glowing fuse in her hand that she could accidentally drop she was actually quite good at firing a cannon and commanding the gun crews.

"Fire!"

In the deafening sound of roaring cannons, splashing water and crashing wood Rowan darted up the stairs to the afterdeck, shooing away Mr Cotton from the wheel. She had spotted a ketch approaching them at the fore while the former Jewel Star was advancing on larboard. They were running straight into a trap. Due to the shallow waters of Yallah Bay they couldn't make a starboard tack and it was already too late to come around on the larboard bow, besides, the wind did certainly not favor them this morning. But the Navy would certainly not expect them to sail straight past their two vessels.

"This is madness!" Mr Gibbs commented when he became aware of what Rowan was up to.

"Aye. Hoist every bit of canvas we have, this is our only chance. We can escape the Jewel once we're out of this bloody bay. Tao! Man the starboard battery and get rid off the ketch."

"Aye, sister! My pleasure!"

Rowan steadied the wheel as a fresh breeze filled the sails while Tao scurried to the bow chaser, not to starboard, since the angle in which they were approaching the ketch was just too tempting to ignore it. She aimed, lit the fuse, fired- and cheered with delight when the iron ball crashed through the bow and came out at the aft of the ketch. With a little luck it had caused serious damage below deck, her two masts were already swaying… then they came down like fallen trees.

"Three cheers for Miss Tao!" Gibbs yelled. "Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!"

Rowan rolled her eyes, if only the old salt would show her just a whiff of the enthusiasm he had for Tao who seemed to be the only woman he did not consider as frightful bad luck aboard a ship. In his eyes she was an angel while Rowan still was to him what she had always been, the red-haired witch. Even when Tao had almost set the galley ablaze in a clumsy attempt to boil some tea two days ago he had given her an adoring glance before hurrying to put out the fire.

Meanwhile Bootstrap Bill tried to be everywhere at the same time; he commanded the gun crews still firing at the Jewel Star- now called Avenging Angel- while seeing to it that wounded crewmates were tended, always keeping a weather eye on the sails, the wind, and last but not least on Tao just in case he needed to protect her from herself. He joined Rowan on the afterdeck when they finally sailed past the Avenging Angel which was now forced to change tack.

"Keep her full!" Bill instructed Rowan, the open sea ahead of them.

"No," she shook her head, "listen Bill, I'm having a thought here. Let's play cat and mouse with the Navy for a while and make them believe we're giving up in the end. We'll make use of nightfall and disappear, sailing straight to the north coast. It'll take longer to reach Port Royal but it's a fair chance; I noticed it while studying the charts."

He considered it. The Jewel Star had been faster than the Pearl but the Avenging Angel could not match her in speed anymore. So he agreed to Rowan's plan, knowing for sure that she wanted to rescue Jack as much as he did.

-

Time dragged on, endlessly. Solitude didn't sit well with Jack, too much time to be alone with his thoughts and the knowledge that someone out there wanted to hunt down pirates. _Nothing's wrong with that…the brethren of the coast was a lie,__there's no loyalty amongst pirates, they're all cutthroats, easy to bribe, willing to sell their soul to the highest bidder and I owe them all nothing… 'course there are exceptions that prove the rule… _Feeling really miserable when thinking about Bill and Rowan he leant his back against the wall; he was so damned tired but falling asleep would inevitably end with a rude awakening - that he already had learned. And no matter how much water Angelo had forcefully poured down his throat hours- _days?_- ago, he was thirsty again; his mouth was dry. The rumble in his stomach reminded him that it was quite a while now since _whatshisname?_ had served him breakfast but it was unlikely he would get anything to eat before Angelo returned. Still no reason for looking forward to the return of this bastard… _oh please, Bill, don't do anything stupid, don't come anywhere near Randy Charly and his angelic devil of a pet- unlikely, now what a truly daft idea I'm coming up with here, as if Bill would __**not**__ try to do something incredibly stupid and of course heroic to spring me from jail, not willing to lemme down…_The thought was as reassuring as it was terrifying since the worst Jack could think of was anything happening to Bill or Rowan.

-

The Black Pearl dropped anchor in a bay near Port Maria, a small town at the northeast cost of Jamaica. For a day the pirates had fooled the Royal Navy by making them chase them all along the south coast and back as if they were desperately trying to get to Port Royal. They had even fired at the town with the result that the Dauntless had put out to sea to join the Avenging Angel. Then, shortly before nightfall, they had pretended defeat and sailed off in the direction of Tortuga only to change tack in the dark of night. Maybe the Royal Navy was still on their way there.

Early this morning the pirates held a meeting in the captain's cabin, after Rowan was back from her trip to Port Maria, allegedly to see if the coast was clear off marine soldiers there. She had a smug grin on her face when she explained her plan… although not in every detail.

Mr Gibbs frowned at her, which was no surprise. "Ye want us to walk through the jungle again, this time probably for days?"

"No. I want **you **to stay aboard the Pearl, along with all the others, because ye'll be in command of her," Actually they had already decided that Tao was to be the one in command but since Gibbs would do anything to please her she could as well boost his ego, "while Bill and I will be on our way to Port Royal."

"Ye wanna go on yer own, ye two?" Gibbs stared in disbelief at Bootstrap Bill. "That's madness."

"There's no strength in numbers, Mr Gibbs, and we can't take Port Royal by force. Rowan's plan is possibly our only chance to free Jack. I don't see any alternative. If any of ye has a better idea please share it."

"Ye're daft like Jack, both o' ye are," Marty interjected, pointing at Rowan and Bill, "so I say, aye, there's a fair chance ye'll succeed."

"Aye." Most of the assembled pirates agreed but Gibbs still frowned until Tao placed a placatory hand on his shoulder and gave him a sweet, innocent smile.

"Oh Gibbsy-dear, you don't want to leave me alone aboard, do you? I need a strong man at my side to protect me while my Bootstrap is away."

A flutter of lashes later Mr Gibbs was entirely won over or- to be more precisely, totally wound around her little finger. He blushed, jumped to his feet, saluted and bowed. "I'm yer most obedient servant, Miss Tao."

Bill had to turn away and bit his lips to keep from bursting out into hilarious laughter. It was right, you had to protect Tao from herself due to her talent of stumbling over her own feet but she was absolutely **not** the helpless and scared woman she pretended to be.

He glanced at Rowan. "Methinks everything's settled here, so let's go."

They walked on deck, the pirates following in their wake. Bill took his time to give Tao a last kiss, whispering, "I'll be back soon."

"I know, I have faith in you… in both of you."

"And I trust you," he turned around to address Mr Gibbs- oh, he really couldn't wait to tell Jack that Tao actually called him _Gibbsy_-_dear_, "to keep a weather eye on me woman, savvy?"

Then he joined Rowan in the longboat that would take then to Port Maria. She noticed that he was carrying along his medicine bag and arched a brow but decided to keep her mouth shut, not wanting to imagine what might have happened to Jack, let alone to hear Bill speaking it out.

"How long d'ye expect it'll take us to get to Port Royal from here?" Bill asked as they went ashore, remembering the map she had showed him the night before. There was a road leading from Port Maria to Port Royal… well, he didn't mind walking through the jungle for days if only that would finally help to rescue Jack, but he nevertheless did pull a face when she came up with a very unexpected surprise.

"Probably not longer than two days if we ride hard and fast…"

"Oh bugger!" He saw her standing proud with the reins of two horses in her hands, smiling smugly at him. Probably she had arranged all this when she'd been to town earlier on. Needless to say that he wasn't very pleased with the course of events. After all, he was a pirate and pirates were sailors, not horsemen. Captain Rowan Scarlett however would always beg to differ; she seemed to be quite fond of these beasts. Skeptically he watched her mounting hers.

Rowan noticed his hesitation. "Um, you know how to ride, don't ye?"

"Sure!" Bill lied, thinking that it couldn't be much different than riding an elephant which he had done before. Alas, there wasn't a mahout around. A bit clumsy he mounted his horse and took up the reins, coming to the conclusion that these were used for steering. He would definitely rub Jack's nose in what he was willing to endure in order to save him.

-

…_so bloody weak…_Jack absolutely hated not being in control of the situation. The darkness, the lack of horizons dragged him down; he wanted to feel the wind on his face, the rocking of the sea underneath his feet. He definitely missed the sea. Here there were no horizons, no fresh breeze, only darkness and cold, not even a rat to talk to. This place was his personal hell, emotionally and also physically since the lack of food was weakening him in a way that his body betrayed him. It happened too often now that he fell asleep and his legs refused to carry him so he woke up dangling on the chains, his shoulders sore. _Could someone, __**anyone**__, please come to save me? _

Someone came, but not to save him. _No, Randy Charly has come to gloat over the situation he landed me in…_that was enough for Jack to gather all his strength and straighten up, even if he needed the damnable chains for support. He opted for defiance but changed his mind when noticing that Beaufort had come to bring him food… _right, he's still having plans with me, promotion party an' all that… not so much obliged though that he merely wants te keep me alive for the sake of a nicer hanging…_

"Charly! To what do I owe the pleasure of your ambiguous presence?" His own voice sounded strange to him, it was hoarse, his throat was dry and his tongue felt like something that didn't belong in his mouth. Oh, he really was glad when Beaufort handed him a mug of water.

"Now, now Jack… I most certainly do not wish to see you die before **I** decide it is time for you to."

"Ye're too kind, mate. But d'ye really think we need this?" Jack rattled with his chains, hoping for a chance to persuade Beaufort, to lull him into a false sense of security and make him believe that he was of no danger, that he would be very grateful indeed and willing to prove it. "Don't ye think we could settle our little problems in a different, probably even more pleasurable way?"

To his surprise Beaufort laughed out loud. "Oh Jack, don't be absurd! You met Angelo, didn't you? What gives you the idea I could possibly be interested in you if I can have exceptional beauty in perfection. Besides, it is very unimaginative of you to actually believe you could fool me with the same trick again. I decidedly prefer to see you in chains. Have a good day."

Now that really crushed Jack's self-confidence. He had become _predictable_ and that hurt him more than his aching shoulders… at least for a while…

-

Will Turner was at the docks when the Avenging Angel sailed into port. He had been restless these last two days, ever since he had spotted black sails in the waters of Port Royal and the Black Pearl had fired her cannons at the city. It was as if Sparrow had come to mock him, to ridicule his grief about Elisabeth's death, and he had been more than glad to see the Dauntless putting out to join the Avenging Angel in hunting pirates. If only Richard would have taken him along. But his friend had reminded him that his children needed him, which was certainly right. Alas, they couldn't take away the grief or make it more bearable. The only thing that would bring a smile on his face was the thought of revenge, to see Jack Sparrow swinging from the gallows for his murderous crimes. Or, even better, killed by his own hands.

He approached Captain Smith, who just came walking down the gangway. "What was the Black Pearl doing in these waters two days ago? Why did they attack Port Royal?"

"Apparently they intended to free their captain." Angelo replied quite bored, not wanting to bother with a blacksmith. Then he noticed the surprise in Will's face and arched a delicate brow.

"Sparrow's here?"

"Yes indeed. As luck would have it he is Lord Beaufort's prisoner," Angelo saw Will clenching his fists with a rage he could hardly restrain, so he added incitingly, "now, isn't it ironic that he is being held captive in the very same small cell you once built?"

Will agreed cautiously, remembering how much Elisabeth had hated him building that special cell. Actually she had persuaded him to keep one of the keys… life was really ironic. His wonderful wife had always believed that deep down in his heart Sparrow was a good man, before he had proven her so thoroughly wrong she would have wanted him to use the key in order to free the pirate. Now he would use it to take revenge.

"Sparrow will be brought to justice, trust me. There is absolutely **no** chance for him to escape, and the pirates have given up on him, leaving him to his fate."

Somehow Will doubted that. His father would always be ready to let down his own flesh and blood, but he would never- under no circumstances- abandon damned Jack. Well, he would make sure that Bootstrap Bill was never to see his oh so dear friend alive again

-

_Blood, hands washed in blood, dead eyes staring, cold… no, __**no, NO! **_Jack opened his eyes. Darkness. Dim torch light. His shoulders ached so badly that he almost blacked out again; it felt as if someone was stabbing glowing daggers in his back and joyfully twisting them. A sharp yelp of pain slipped his lips. He tried to get to his feet again. His legs were like jelly, wobbly, but his head was quite light. So funny what hunger and thirst could do to you, he had never thought he'd ever long so desperately for a few drops of water…. Breathing heavily he leaned his back against the wall. Not that it wouldn't hurt less but the pins and needles in his arms were almost a welcome distraction… _delirium was more fun when ye control the hallucinations… how 'bout something nice for a change? WINE! She took off her hat and was bathed in cascades of red wine. Wanted her… would always want her. Sparkling in colors, so shamelessly, so beautiful. Eyes like the sea, could lose meself in 'em… The sea in sunlight, a dark shadow, the most magnificent ship I ever laid eyes on. She told me she was mine…I'm not mad 'cause me ship's talking to me… ye just can't hear it. Me, I'm not a loner for the reason that I wanna be alone but for hating being crowded by unimaginative people and besides, he can hear her too. Meet William 'friends call me Bill' Turner. Stared at me with curiosity when we first met. Stared all the way to the deepest, darkest corners of me black heart, found a soft spot an' decided to settle there. Gift from the mermaids indeed, so… so_ un_depraved, compassionate… I'm sorry. Fucked it up, glad ye returned. Always forgiving. When I return from hell we'll go to see the… Pygmy? Python? Pythagoras? Damned, big triangular things in the desert?__** Pyramids!**__ That's it. We'll go to see the Pyramids… just don't do anything stupid…_

Footsteps on cold stone, someone was approaching. The cell door opened. Bill walked in- at least that was what Jack's clouded mind, dwelling in memories of good old times, wanted to believe.

"Bill," he rasped hoarsely, a spark of hope in his voice. "So damned good to see ye…"

The punch in his stomach came absolutely unexpectedly. Wrong time, wrong name, but almost the same face. Of course this wasn't the younger Bill of his memories; the person who had entered his cell was his son and he was foaming with rage that needed a vent.

"Ruthless murderer!"

"WILL!" Jack yelled, suddenly realizing his mistake. There had been times when he would have been glad to see him but these times were long over. Perhaps his old enemies laughed and danced now for having succeeded in manipulating their friendship. Friendship? No, they had never been friends. Will simply wasn't Bill. Bill would **never** beat a helpless man in chains.

He tried to fend off the blows, seeking for a chance to talk some sense into the stupid whelp, but each time he opened his mouth to reason with him, Will merely hit out harder. It took Jack great effort to gather all his remaining strength and - finally- to make good use of the bloody chains. He waited for the opportune moment… the pain in his arm was incredible when he swung it and wrapped the chain around Will's neck, pulling him closer.

"Now will ye please listen te me, lad. Damned! I. Did. Not. Kill. Her. Savvy?"

"But I saw it!"

"Ye saw what _bello_ outside and malicious inside Angelo wanted ye to see, making e'ryone believe that such an angelic looking specimen o' mankind couldn't harm a fly when in fact"

"Shut your bloody mouth, Sparrow, I'm not the naïve young fool I used to be. I won't let you mess up my life any longer. I want you to die!"

In the dim light of the torch the metallic glitter of a blade flashed up as Will raised a dagger, eager to stab Jack.

"**NO!**" Someone shouted unexpectedly, which startled Will so much that his thrust at the pirate's heart failed. The dagger merely scratched Jack's skin, leaving a bleeding trail across his chest. Irritated, Will turned around to see Lieutenant Groves standing at the open door.

"Drop your weapon!"

"He deserves to die! He killed Elisabeth!"

"Mayhap. But it's not for you to judge, Mr Turner, and I will not allow you to harm a captive of the Royal Navy." Groves replied strictly as he stepped between Will and the pirate who had gone slack in his chains. "You are not a military man therefore I strongly recommend you to leave this place immediately."

Will glared daggers at the lieutenant but didn't dare to offer disobedience. Angrily he took his leave only to bump into Captain Smith who had watched the scene from a distance. With a smug smile on his face he blocked the way and leant close to Will.

"I will not tell anyone that you have a key if you promise me that you are not going to kill the pirate. Lord Beaufort wants him to be executed in London and we are not going to question his wish, are we?"

Meanwhile Lieutenant Groves dabbed the blood off Jack's face and gave him some water to drink, which gained him a slight smile from split lips. The pirate mumbled a weak 'thanks'.

"I believe that prisoners should be treated with humanity," Groves told him.

"And once again you are forgetting your place," Angelo snarled threateningly.

Groves decided that is was better to swallow whatever he wanted to say since there simply was no point and purpose in arguing with a superior officer. A part of him wanted to shoot him though, especially when Captain Smith poured a bucketful of water over the pirate's head.

"Wake up and enjoy the pain."

Lieutenant Groves left the prison with a feeling of disgusted, he actually thought about quitting service in the Royal Navy. Once he had been proud to serve his King and country, never having expected that one day it would contradict with his conscience. Maybe he should spring Captain Sparrow from jail and join his crew. No, that was definitely not the right decision either. He needed someone to talk to, someone who was not corrupted by Governor Beaufort, an outsider. A respectable and honorable man like Commodore Norrington. His former superior would give him an advice how to clear his conscience, maybe he was just overreacting.

People gave him odd looks as he went running through the streets of Port Royal but he couldn't slow down, his mind was in too much turmoil. He almost ran over James Norrington who had been visiting the town and was on his way back home.

"Lieutenant Groves, why are you in such a hurry?"

Groves breathed a sigh of relief. "Sir, I'm so glad to see you! I… I need to talk to you… I don't know what to do. My conscience and my sense of duty don't coincide any longer… it's not right… I'm thinking about quitting the Navy…"

"Good Lord! Lieutenant Groves, please calm down." James said soothingly as he placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. He had never seen him like this before, so confused and almost out of his mind. "Take a deep breath and tell me what happened. Why would you want to quit the Navy?"

"Because… what they are doing isn't right. When I joined the Navy I believed my task would be to serve my King, to protect the interests of my country, and that made me proud for I love England. I never believed that that would conflict with my conscience one day. But now it seems that I have to trade my compassion for the sake of obedience… I can't do that. It can't serve the interests of a great nation to accomplish its interests with slaying innocents or treating its prisoners with arbitrary means of torture and humiliation. Is England not strong enough to grant a doomed man at least some decency and humanity?"

James blanched involuntarily. "Would you care to elaborate on that? Is it a specific prisoner you have in mind or the general attitude?"

Groves hesitated for a moment before he said, "Sparrow."

"What?" A shiver ran down James's spine. Although he had already feared it, it was a nevertheless a shock to hear that Beaufort had managed to get hold of Jack.

"Forgive me, Sir, I know he's a pirate and a criminal…"

"He's probably not the worst criminal in Port Royal."

"…and I shouldn't have bothered you with my pangs of conscience- wait, I beg your pardon, what did you just say, Sir?"

"Ahem," David Bennet cleared his throat to gain Norrington's attention before he could repeat himself. "Sir, methinks it would be wiser to not continue this conversation in public."

"Of course, you are right, Mr Bennet." James agreed. Then he became aware of Groves' uneasiness since he had apparently not taken notice of the unobtrusive looking man in his company; he seemed quite startled. To ease the situation he introduced the two men to each other. "Mr Bennet, please meet Lieutenant Groves, an old acquaintance of mine and a trustworthy officer. Lieutenant, Mr David Bennet is my faithful assistant.

"Assistant?" What would a man allegedly on honeymoon need an assistant for, Groves wondered?

Norrington didn't give an explanation until after Bennet had led them to the graveyard, where he gave a sign that it was safe to talk now. None of them noticed though that they had been followed or were being eavesdropped on.

"The reason for my presence in Port Royal is of a delicate matter and has to be treated with the utmost discretion- all I can give away is that I am still a loyal servant of my King but on a different level. Please trust me and tell me all about Jack."

_Jack?_ Groves was really puzzled. What had become of the stiff naval officer the Commodore used to be? He had always admired him because he was an honorable man but now he admired him even more because he also showed emotions- and he really seemed to worry about Jack Sparrow. So he poured out his heart and spilled everything, from having been ordered to participate in a massacre to Jack's imprisonment and the way he was treated, being kept in solitary confinement in a dark hole of a cell, chained to the wall, left to the arbitrary whims of Captain Smith. He also mentioned Will Turner's attack at the pirate which he had fortunately managed to stop before the worst could happen.

"Oh my God!" James drew in a sharp breath. He had to do something to save Jack, he owed it to him. On the other hand there was still his task to be considered and he didn't want to disappoint Rupert Ashcroft- he was not going to be mislead by any rash actions. Figuring himself in quite a dilemma he glanced at Bennet. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Are you actually considering rescuing Sparrow from jail?" Groves gasped surprised.

"I would do it at once if only I had some evidence against Beaufort. I cannot and will not risk my mission." What would become of Catherine if he was discovered?

"But if ye **had **some evidence ye'd help to rescue Jack?"

"Yes, of course- what?" James looked around in confusion and so did his companions since none of them had asked the last question. Totally flabbergasted they stared in the direction of where the voice had come from. Their glances fell on a grave.

"Governor Swann?" Groves breathed, reading the inscription on the gravestone.

No, that had definitely not been the old Governor's voice though it had sounded familiar to James. And then he remembered… of course the pirates wouldn't let their captain down- or, to be more precisely, one man in particular would never let his **friend **down. "Bootstrap. Bill. Turner."

Bill popped up behind the gravestone. "Nice to meet ye, James, though I wished the circumstances would be slightly more pleasant. But let's not waste our time with niceties- ye said ye need evidence against Beaufort, and I happen to have what ye need. Help me to free Jack!"

"It's not that easy. Show me what you have first and then we can come up with a concrete plan."

"No, first things first, and my first priority is to see Jack safe." Bill didn't keep the letters with him and he certainly didn't intend to ride all the way back to Port Maria in order to fetch them.

Groves arched a surprised brow. He knew Turner senior on sight but had never spoken to him. It was good to know that he was eager to rescue Sparrow because that proved the story of Sparrow having abducted him another lie. Nevertheless he felt miserable given that his own need to take care of the pirate might have spoiled any future escape attempts.

"There is no chance to get inside the prison. I'm absolutely certain that Captain Smith has doubled the guards to prevent I or anyone else getting close to Jack Sparrow."

"However. I still need to know what kind of evidence you have, Bill, it's essential." James interjected. He was definitely willing to help and he would even make use of the letter that granted him plenary authority over the military forces of Port Royal if necessary, but he would not waste this last chance only for the sake of Jack.

"Letters. Love letters, to be more precisely. Written by Beaufort and addressed to his pet Angelo..."

"Angelo?"

"Captain Smith." James briefly filled in Groves.

"Oh my goodness! Sir, are you implying that Lord Beaufort is a… a, um… sodomite?"

"Clever lad. Guess why he's called Randy Charly in some parts of the world?" Bill quipped before addressing James again. "Anyway, between lots of sweet talk there's also talk about each and every massacre he ordered in benefit of his big plan, and I can tell ye it definitely sounds like high treasons. These letters are proof of guilt."

"Can you arrange their delivery?" James asked excited.

Bill nodded and called for Rowan who had also been hiding behind a gravestone, a pistol in her hands. Apparently not very pleased with the course of events she beckoned Bill over to exchange a few words with him. But no matter how fierce she argued, he managed to take the wind out of her sails.

"Rowan agreed to ride back and fetch the letters," he informed James.

"Ye'll swear on the pain of death that Jack is free and in one piece when I return," she hissed threateningly.

"I will, Milady Captain."

"But Commodore, there is no way to get into the prison." Groves reminded them again.

Bill mulled it over, then smirked. "Lad, there is most definitely a way to get inte prison if ye're a pirate. Actually, I think that's very easy. The only problem is getting out again."

"Not when you have a key." Bennet concluded, immediately surmising what the pirate was up to.

-

No more glory, no illusions of grandeur… his pride was in the bilge, thoroughly shattered along with his hopes and all that was left was pain… _Barbossa laughed, 'I'll meet ye in hell, Jack'… the dark fortress of Kalpitiya… cold, barren corridors reeking of depraved lust… Rowan in the madman's torture chamber, a knife in her hand, butchering her torturer…couldn't protect her, I couldn't protect her, I couldn't- 'Ye're too soft, Jack.' Shut up Barbossa, ye're not here. I killed ye, remember? Saw yer body rotting away in the caves of Isla de Muerta. Now get out of my nightmares! Fine, he's leaving and I'm swimming with Bill again, the sun is shining. There's a bottle on the ground so I'm diving. Someone has hidden a bottle of rum for me…that's nice. I like rum. Wouldn't mind a few drops of water though… thirsty, so __**damned **__thirsty. Now where's the kind officer? He's not coming back… no one's coming for me… hey, just because I'm a loner doesn't mean I wanna be alone- I'm just picky 'bout me company… surrounded by mermaids, luring me, teasing me. They're wanton. I like wanton women. Prefer red hair though. Red like the most exquisite wine, Rowan-red-wine-hair. Their hair is blue…seaweed dissolving into thousands of blue crabs that are carrying me to the halls of an ancient sea king with a grim, green face and tentacles as beard, sitting on a throne of shells and barnacles, crushing li'le black pearls with his claw-like hands... 'You don't appreciate the gift I sent you. Ungrateful fool! You left your only friend to oblivion because you prefer to sulk, because you cannot forgive him!' … a vision of Bill strapped to a cannon, pale face, eyes turning fishlike, a silent plea on his lips… __**NO! **__That's not true, that's not real! I'm sorry, Bill, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry… too late. The claw-like hand came down to crush him like he crushed the li'le black pearls…_

_Oh no, not again…_Jack woke up, bathed in sweat. That was definitely one of his worst nightmares, perhaps worse than the reoccurring dreams of the mutiny. He wished he could stay awake to avoid those kind of dreams but he was too goddamned weak to not escape to the world of illusions and hallucinations. Well, there wasn't much else he could do instead. It occurred to him that he could simply die- _oh, now that would really piss off Randy Charly_- but on the other hand he wasn't that keen on dying. Besides, as long as Bill and Rowan were still free there was still a tiny glimpse of hope… if only the glimpse would be a bit brighter so that he could actually see it. They had not given him up, had they?

How long had he been in this bloody hole of a cell now, chained to the wall? Days? Weeks? Months? It felt like an eternity since he had long lost track of time. Did his captors come here on a regularly basis to gloat over his misery or just when they needed a certain kick? He didn't know. He didn't even care. It was funny, he had never believed that someone could crush the infamous Captain Sparrow with such simple means as the mere fact that he was imprisoned, suffering from hunger and thirst… let alone solitude. _Being a loner doesn't necessarily mean I hate good company_… However, he had always expected it would need something really spectacular to break him but they had almost managed it… and yet, there was still a tiny glimpse of hope left since he was absolutely sure that Bill and Rowan were still free and alive- otherwise Randy Charly or his _bello_ Angelo had boasted with news about their demise just to see him suffer. _Why not legalize sodomy and let these buggers marry each other so that they won't have to vent their sexual frustration on innocent bystanders? Mayhap the joys of matrimonial life could have defused Beaufort's overblown plans in striving for a worldwide monopoly in trade…_

… _a world ruled by a company, its flag flying everywhere, mass hangings to silence everyone who dares to oppose to their arbitrary whims… the last pirate vessel going down in blaze and thunder and glory… it looked like the Pearl… __**No**__, not me Pearl!… footsteps…_

Footsteps? Was it already time for his daily ration of humiliation? How long had passed since Will had given him a beating? Actually the betrayal, the mistrust and hatred in his eyes stung more- **hurt** more- that the bruises he had left. How often had he passed out since then, not wanting to bear the pain, escaping it… only to wake up covered in cold sweat due to his nightmares? It couldn't get worse.

Oh, he was wrong, so wrong. The worst had been yet to come.

The flickering light of a torch came closer and two redcoats, watched by the angelic devil himself, hauled a motionless body into his cell.

"Enjoy the company," Angelo sneered coldly before he scampered off again without caring to give Jack his ration of water.

For the first time Jack didn't mind at all. In utter shock he stared at the slack form and in the dim light of a torch he identified Bill. _No! No, that can't be. I'm dreaming! This is just another nightmare…_

Alas, it wasn't. The man lying in his cell was definitely Bill and he didn't move, no matter how often Jack called his name. He was dead. _**Bill was dead!**_

_All hope was gone… _

"Please wake up, mate. We're caught up in a really bad nightmare here." Jack wanted to scream but merely a hoarse whisper slipped his lips. Bill didn't move, didn't utter a sound.

He tried to fight off his chains in order to get closer to his friend, to see whether the moisture in his hair was indeed blood- but the chains were stronger than he; he should have known that from the start.

Pain! A really nasty flash of pain shot through his shoulders… he yelped. Darkness.

* * *

Thanks to **ellennar** for writing the message to Norrington.

**Smithy**: You might want to read chapters 1-8, 16 and 19, if Norrington believing in Jack comes as a surprise to you. There isn't much about Will in these chapters but it explains a lot about Jack and James. Thanks for your review.


	28. Out of the Darkness

chapter 28- Out of the Darkness

Bill woke up with a groan, wishing Bennet hadn't hit him that hard. His head was aching. Ignoring the throbbing pain he opened his eyes and tried to get a look at his surroundings. It was dark in here, dark and cold. A clammy chill that crept through his bones and made him shudder.

"Jack?" He whispered as he sat up, scanning the cell. No answer.

Meanwhile his eyes were adjusted to the darkness, illuminated only by the faint light of a flickering torch, and he saw the slack form of a man dangling in chains. Bill drew in a sharp breath, trying to keep his sudden flush of panic at bay. His friend didn't move, didn't make a sound.

_Stop fretting,_ he told himself, _this is neither the right time nor the right place for inappropriate overreactions. Damned, ye studied medicine for __**years**__ so don't jump to conclusions born from a worried mind now. Instead, behave like any proper doc would do. First things first. Check his pulse…_

Bill carefully lifted Jack's head and was shocked about the way he looked. His face was thoroughly bruised. His eyes were swollen, rimmed in a dark purple shade. There were cuts and welts all over him, and his lips were raw, cracked up, split. A gash, not deep but scary looking ran across his chest, and the upper part of his body was covered with even more bruises. Some of them seemed to be older, already turned to a yellowish green, while others were of the same reddish purple as in his face.

After a first quick examination Bill realized that things looked worse than they were. Jack was unconscious but he was breathing, and his pulse was beating steadily. He was not gravely wounded. Nothing that would not heal.

Bill took off his left boot and pulled out a key, silently thanking Rowan for pinching it from Will's smithy; she was a damned good burglar. Lissom and agile enough to climb in through small windows, and definitely more fleet-footed than he was.

He unlocked the shackles. Jack let out a horrible whimper as he tumbled in Bill's arms but didn't wake up. His wrists were a mess of blood and grazed skin where the metal had cut into his flesh. The wounds were already festering.

Bill tried to take all of that in with the cool and rational mind of a physician. The last thing he needed now was a mind clouded with worries, fearing for his friend. Jack would only survive if he managed to get him out of here. So he unceremoniously shouldered him and walked to the door. The infamous Captain Jack Sparrow would have **hated **to be treated like a sack of wet flour but fortunately he had no say in that, unconscious as he was.

Deep in his old pirate heart it had never sat well with him that his son, the best blacksmith in Port Royal, was working for the Royal Navy but now he really approved to it. The key turned nicely in the lock and the door swung open. Wasn't life ironic? It could stab you in the back sometimes. Whatever Will's intention for keeping an extra key might have been, in the end he had used it to give a helpless pirate a good beating, and now the very same key was being used to free said pirate. Bill remembered to thank his son- before he would ram his head into the next wall, that is.

He tried to fight off the anger boiling up inside him when thinking of his son and to recall instead what Bennet had told him since that was more significant at the moment. _Walk up the stairs and turn right at half-landing. __**Don't**__ follow the staircase all the way up for that will only land you into really serious trouble…_

So Bill turned right when he reached the landing and entered a dimly lit room that smelled of death. It was empty. There was a door ahead that would lead out of the prison, and it stood slightly ajar.

"Ye'll be outta here in a minute." Bill whispered to Jack's slack form slung over his shoulder as he tossed open the door. It felt good to breathe some fresh air again, to feel the warmth of a Caribbean night, to see the stars above. He was in some sort of backyard, surrounded by windowless walls. He saw the stern of a cart painted all in black and drawn by black horses. A creepy feeling welled up inside him. The scent of death was lingering in the air and he didn't like being reminded of death when carrying his motionless friend.

"Mr Bootstrap, Sir, we have to hurry."

Bennet's voice startled him although he had expected him to be around. After all that was part of the plan.

"If ye hadn't knocked me out that hard…"

"I'm sorry, Sir, but you wanted your capture to be as realistic as possible," David Bennet reminded him without remorse. Then he lifted the tarp covering the cart and pointed at the coffins inside. "Please, make yourself comfortable, Sir. Do you need some help with your burden?"

"Jack's **not** a burden to me!" Bill snapped, scowling at the young man. "And stop calling me _Sir_. Damned, I'm a pirate."

"Alright, but hurry now."

He hesitated a moment. There was probably no better way to get out of this place and yet Bill hated the idea of having to put Jack in a coffin as if he was already dead, as if no hope was left.

Bennet cast a glance at the unconscious pirate and hissed through his teeth, "My, he really looks miserable."

"Oh thanks for pointing that out! D'ye have any idea how miserable I feel for having wasted another day instead of rescuing him earlier?"

"I understand your concern, Bootstrap. I really do. But we all agreed that tonight would be the best opportunity to spring Captain Jack Sparrow from jail, when Beaufort and Angelo are at Norrington's dinner party."

That took the wind out of Bill's sails. Of course the young man was right, and he knew it. He told himself to stop fretting. So far everything worked perfectly fine and according to their plan. The Norringtons were having a dinner party tonight and Governor Beaufort, Angelo, as well as some other high-ranking naval officers had been invited- Catherine had already planned this event a couple of days ago, long before she or her husband had even known of Jack's imprisonment. What she hadn't known then was that her dinner party would be used as the ideal opportunity to spring a pirate from jail. With Beaufort and Angelo attending to it the chance of any of them thwarting an escape attempt by unexpectedly showing up in prison was more than unlikely if not positively ruled out. After all, they did care about the rules of decorum (at least in public). And at the same time the suspicion of collaboration would be deflected from James Norrington since he was playing the perfect host tonight.

But they weren't safe yet; they were still inside the walls of the garrison. Bill held his breath. A cold shiver ran down his spine when the cart stopped. You would panic too if you were lying in a coffin, the lid closed over you. It was a damned creepy feeling. He heard an unfamiliar voice speaking to Bennet and prayed that Jack wouldn't wake up now of all times. Sounds out of a coffin were generally regarded as suspicious.

Someone lifted the tarp and counted the coffins, paper was rustling. "Five. Governor Beaufort is doing a thorough job, five more hangings today. Your father must have earned a fortune lately, young Mr Bennet. My best regards to him."

"Thank you, sir. I will pass on your greetings." Bennet clicked his tongue and the horses trotted on. The cart left the garrison, rumbling along the nightly streets of Port Royal, heading towards the graveyard. A few minutes later he told Bill that he could leave his hiding place now.

"Great!" Bill kicked off the lid of the coffin and checked quickly how Jack was faring- still alive, still breathing, still looking horrible- before he scampered to join Bennet on the coach box. "So yer father's the local undertaker?"

"Aye. And though Beaufort is definitely good for his business, I won't lament being rid of him again. Bloody bastard… oh, um… I beg your pardon… "

"Don't worry lad. I'm a pirate, I'm used to swearing." Bill fell silent for a moment and cast a glance over his shoulder at the motionless form of his friend. Bloody bastard was a very polite way to name Beaufort but he was too nervous to think of any better curse. If only they would finally reach a safe place where he could care for Jack. To distract himself he asked, "So, how's the party going?"

Bennet clenched his fist. "It was fine before Beaufort arrived. He's such an ass. He actually greeted Milady by saying, 'last time I met you your name was Lady Talbot and you were a countess, the wife of the Earl of Shrewsbury. Now you are _Mrs_ _Norrington_. Congratulations.' In my opinion that was a very mean way of pointing out that she is a divorced woman but Milady proved to be absolutely gorgeous. She smiled and said, 'thank you, Lord Beaufort, I truly am a lucky woman.' She mastered the situation with fine style."

"Indeed." Bill nodded lost in thoughts. "However, care to fill me in about what happened after ye knocked me out?"

"Sure, but you might not like it." The young man cleared his throat. "Beaufort was very pleased that Lieutenant Groves and I had managed to hunt you down. Then your son showed up and his attitude changed. I'd almost say he has a soft spot for him, no matter how perverted that may sound, given that he is a… um, you know what. He actually asked Will if he should spare your life but… but… I don't know how to say it…"

"He said no- right? C'mon, David, just spill it. I know that my son has no love for me, his pirate father who deserves to be brought to justice for all of his crimes and especially for being the miserable father that I truly am. Did he come up with the idea to lock me in the same cell as Jack?"

"Well, I think they both agreed to it…"

_Peas in a pod, _Bill thought. Beaufort wanted to see Jack suffer while his son wanted the same for him only for different reasons. Pompous ambitions meets irrational jealousy and together they go working hand in hand. Effective but predictable. After all, his plan had worked since he had foreseen that happening.

Meanwhile the cart had come to a stop at the far end of the cemetery where the graves were merely marked with plain wooden crosses instead of impressive stones or statues of angels. Here rested those who had been executed, and the number of new graves had considerably increased since Beaufort had taken over. Bill shivered involuntarily. He was not a superstitious man like Mr Gibbs but a graveyard at night made him feel uncomfortable. It looked so different than it had the day before.

"Do you still know the way?" Bennet asked in a hushed whisper.

Bill gave him a frown. "Ye're not coming along?"

"Father likes things neat. He wouldn't approve finding two empty coffins while others are occupied twice, so I have to rearrange the corpses again."

"Oh, of course." Bill did not offer his help. Instead he shouldered Jack, who was still unconscious, and headed for the gate that opened to a small path along the seaside. Bennet caught up with him a few minutes later and took the lead.

Soon they passed a high stone wall at the back of a garden. There was a door in the wall, hard to notice for anyone who did not know where it was. Bennet opened it. They scampered through the garden towards a house, bright light fell through its windows and the sound of merry laughter was to be heard. Norrington's dinner party seemed to be a success.

Of course they didn't knock at the front door since they were not invited but entered the house through the service entrance that led them straight to the hustle and bustle in the kitchen. The maids didn't seem to be startled. One or two raised a curious eye before they continued their busy work. Bennet just smiled and shoved Bill to a spiral staircase leading upstairs to the first floor.

Bill's legs were getting heavier and heavier with every single step. Though Jack didn't weigh that much, his weight almost dragged him down now. He stumbled, and would have probably fallen all the way down if Bennet had not gotten hold of him.

"Are you alright, Bootstrap?"

No, he wasn't. He was tired and worried, and every single muscle in his legs (even those he hadn't known of) **ached.**

"Bloody horses," he mumbled grumpily. Then he took a deep breath and walked on.

The staircase ended in a room that served as office and library. Beneath the window stood a desk, the other walls were covered with bookshelves and cupboards. The old, cosy armchairs looked inviting to sit down and read a book while a glass of liquor from one of the many bottles in the cabinet was sitting on the small table nearby. Yet, they had no time to linger. Bennet opened a cupboard which backside was the door to another room, a secret one. It was merely furnished with a bed, a nightstand and a chair.

Bill laid down Jack on the bed and wiped the sweat off his face. Finally they were safe. His medicine bag was still where he had left it when Norrington had shown him the room. He took out some herbs and handed them to Bennet, instructing him to boil some tea and to bring him hot water.

He removed Jack's dirty and bloodstained clothes and washed him thoroughly before he examined him more closely. Although his face looked horrible at first sight, no bones had been broken and the swellings of the bruises would go down on their own in time. Bill remembered that he had almost looked the same a couple of times, after a decent cantina brawl- only that he'd had the satisfaction of knowing that his opponents had ended up worse. There wasn't much he could do for Jack expect for applying a soothing ointment. None of the cuts were deep enough that stitches were required and the gash across his chest was already closing. Perhaps a scar would remain, a thin, silvery line against his bronzed skin, but Bill was quite sure that Jack couldn't care less.

The wounds at his wrists where the iron of the shackles had abraded his skin were a more delicate problem since some of the grazes were already encrusted with old blood while other parts were raw and festering. It hurt him to see his friend suffer, whimpering with pain in his sleep, nevertheless Bill had to clean the wounds properly if he didn't want to risk a serious infection. Maybe it was about time for a dose of laudanum. He had to measure it carefully though, keeping in mind that Jack was weakened by malnutrition and dehydration.

Jack woke up briefly when a gentle voice told him to drink, so he made an attempt to swallow. His mouth was so bloody dry and his tongue seemed to have swollen to perhaps a million times its actual size, but then he felt a cool liquid running down his throat, and it was a good feeling. He would have begged for more if only he'd known the words. His brain refused to cooperate and besides, he was much too tired.

The voice talked to him again, gently and soothing. It sounded nice and familiar…

"Bill?" His own voice however, or- more precisely- the feeble, croaked whisper that slipped his lips didn't sound familiar to him at all. Anyway, he must be hallucinating again, wishful thinking and all that, since he knew that Bill was dead. Someone was playing tricks on him, cruel and nasty tricks. "Go 'way ye're dead."

"I'm not." A strong arm came around his shoulders, lifting him up so that he could drink some more, something different this time. Tea? Water? Whatever, it didn't matter that Bill told him that he wasn't dead; he merely wanted to escape to the realm of oblivion again, to a place where there was no pain and no sorrow. For a second it occurred to him that Bill might be telling the truth if it was really Bill talking to him- unlikely, because he was dead- but before his brain could figure out what was reality or not the drugs took effect. All the pain ceased and he drifted away, back to where no one could hurt him, wishing he could stay there forever. _Ah, painkillers are a wonderful thing…_

The next time he woke up a ray of light touched his face. Beautiful light, sunlight. It was warm. He didn't want to move, didn't even want to open his eyes, he just wanted to lay still and enjoy it before it was over, before reality would catch up with him and he'd have to realize he was still in the dark, clammy hole of a prison. Then a memory hit him hard.

"BILL!" He sat up with a start, panting, his heart beating so fast that he felt dizzy.

"Shh, I'm here, Jack. 'Twas just a dream."

Bill's voice. That couldn't be. But who else would dare to assume he was having nightmares? Jack tried to open his eyes but his lids felt so heavy that it was a real effort, and when he finally managed they were barely slits, like looking through a keyhole. It was enough for the sunlight to blind him though so he quickly closed them again, tears streaming down his face. _Wait! _S_unlight? Bill? What the hell's going on here? Why are these hallucinations so damned realistic? _"Shut it. Ye're dead."

"I'm not. We already had this conversation last night and I swear I'm still alive."

"Bill? Ye're not dead?" He blinked and actually saw his friend's face right in front of him as Bill piled up some pillows so that he could sit more comfortable. It was so typically Bill, always trying to pamper him… but at the moment it felt damned good being pampered.

"'Course not." Slightly shaking his head Bill blamed it on the drugs that Jack was so out of touch with reality. He handed him a cup of tea but soon had to realize that he was too weak to hold it so he helped him to drink. Strangely, he didn't complain that he was given tea instead of rum which meant that he must have been really dehydrated. He even begged for more.

It took a while, but slowly it dawned upon Jack that he wasn't in prison anymore. Here- wherever here was- there was light and warmth instead of darkness and cold. No chains were holding him in an uncomfortable position. He was lying in a bed, his back resting against a pile of soft pillows. It felt too good to be true.

"Why're ye not dead? Mind, I mightily appreciate that ye're not, but… I saw ye… motionless, not reacting to anything I yelled at ye… " He broke off when suddenly another thought struck him. "Rowan! How's Rowan?"

"She's fine, don't worry 'bout her."

Jack let out a sigh of relief. "Good. However, I still don't get how ye managed to land yerself motionless in that godforsaken hole of a cell."

"Bennet knocked me out. 'Twas the easiest way to get inte prison."

"What?!"

"Well, I had to find some way to get inte prison so that I could get ye out of it." Bill explained with a shrug. "Fancy some more tea?"

"Aye." Jack was so thirsty that he could drink oceans of tea. Then he grasped what his friend had just indicated and spilled the tea with a loud snort, scowling at him. "Are ye trying to tell be that ye deliberately chose to end up unconscious in me li'le cell?"

"Yep, that was part of the plan…"

"Plan? Ye're calling this incredible stupidity a plan? Blast, that's got to be the most daft plan I've ever heard of!"

"It worked out fine. Ye're free and that's all that matters."

"Mhmpf." Jack glared at his friend as if he wanted to throttle him for risking his life in such a unreasonable dangerous, _stupid_ way.

"Besides," Bill continued unperturbed, "my plan wasn't any more daft than any of the mad ideas ye usually come up with."

"Tsk! There's an enormous difference…"

"Oh no, don't tell me that ye're Captain Jack Sparrow for that didn't help ye from getting caught in the first place. And mate, ye seem to be forgetting a very important fact."

"Ah, and what would that be?" Jack growled.

Bill cracked a wry smile. "I'm yer gift from the mermaids, savvy?"

It didn't happen very often that Jack was rendered speechless but now he stared open-mouthed at his friend and the only sound that came from him was the rumbling of his stomach.

"Are ye hungry, Jack?"

What a stupid question. He couldn't even remember when he had eaten last though that didn't change the fact that his _gift_ _from_ _the mermaids _was trying to distract. Bloody cheat, beating him with his own words. _Well, we can sort it out later… first things first..._

"I could eat a whole whale."

_Of course he must be hungry, _Bill thought, feeling guilty for not yet having seen to it that he'd get something to eat if all he had to do was to pull the string Norrington had shown him. It rang a bell in the kitchen and minutes later there was a knock at the door. Bill answered it, noticing that Jack had flinched at the sound. Apparently the days in prison had left a mark on him.

"No whale?" Jack glanced greedily but a bit disappointed at the bowl of steaming broth in Bill's hand. Then he decided to be modest and to accept anything edible with utmost gratitude. He didn't even mind being fed by Bill since he really didn't want to make a move. Although he still felt pleasantly drugged he simply knew that his shoulders were too sore to even think about lifting a hand.

Bill shovelled a few spoonfuls of broth into Jack, surprised that he didn't protest. Usually the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow just **loathed** being dependant on others for that was beneath his dignity. Today, however, he didn't seem to give a damn about dignity but almost longed to be fussed over. Since that corresponded absolutely with Bill's intention he bowed to it with a gentle smile.

Of course Jack wanted to know more about his _stupid_ – if it had really been that stupid they wouldn't be here now- plan, so he filled him in, starting with Rowan's part of the plan. It made Jack chuckle.

"Aw, Rowan made ye ride a horse? Wish I'd seen that..."

"Eat yer soup!" Bill grumbled. It hadn't been fun. Alright, he had managed to stay in the saddle even though it might have not looked very graceful. But that was still no reason to chuckle as if the idea itself sounded completely absurd. His dear friend should appreciate all the indignities he had endured just to free him. "Actually, that was the worst part of the plan."

Jack tried to imagine Bill on horseback and chuckled again when he remembered the stiff way his friend had walked to the door. Who else but Rowan would come up with the idea of riding through the jungle of Jamaica to get to Port Royal? Very unpiraty but clever indeed. And not half as daft as Bill's splendid part of the plan. He swallowed another spoonful of broth before he said, "The worst part was deliberately getting yerself knocked out and thrown inte that hole with me."

"Well, that was"

"Daft! More than daft. Insane. Completely, utterly nuts. Unnecessarily foolish and incredibly stupid..."

"But I got ye outta there."

"That makes ye a heroic idiot but nevertheless an idiot. Don't ye ever dare te make me believe ye're dead 'cause… damned, I feared for ye. Don't go risking yer bloody life for me ever again."

"Hey," Bill said softly after he finally grasped what it was that vexed his friend. He reached out to ruffle his hair, "but that's what mates are for. To care for each other, to save each other even if that means risking yer own life… besides, I didn't do anything ye wouldn't have done were ye in my place."

Jack knew that Bill was right nevertheless he sulked, too groggy to argue any longer. He didn't care that the former Commodore Norrington was working as an agent for the secret agency of a certain Rupert Ashcroft now though it was good to hear that Jamie had finally found the guts to marry the woman he loved. He and Catherine were probably a very pretty couple but he didn't want to see any of them- dammit, his face was so bruised that even the slightest smile ached. Strangely he felt pleasantly sated after only one bowl of broth, and tired… so very tired. He glanced at Bill who didn't look any better than him although he wasn't bruised.

"Ye need a rest," he decided, moving aside to make room. "Come here."

As soon as Bill had laid down because he really was tired too, Jack rested his head on his chest.

"Aw, ye want to _cuddle_?"

"Mmh-hmm." Jack purred, inwardly grinning with triumph… _Gotcha! Now ye can't get away 'n do anything stupid…_ his lids were so heavy that he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, but even when he closed them he still felt the light on his face, the warmth. It was reassuring, soothing, to hear heartbeat drumming in his ears, the closeness of a human soul… _such a long way from the deepest circles of hell, from being scared shitless with the fear of loss, back to life again… to a world of warmth and light instead of chilly darkness…_He was so groggy as if he had actually been running all the way, so weak, broken and fragile... When had he become so pathetic? He hated it but decided to worry about his reputation later… _doesn't matter now, here there's only me 'n good ol' Bill who corrupted me black heart long ago with all his damned compassion… wonderful friendship…should've shot him the instant I met him for all the trouble his kind eyes promised… but no, missed the chance 'n see what it has landed me in…bloody sentimental bliss…_

"Hungry." Jack growled when he woke up hours later. Considering the golden light that fell in through the window it must have been late afternoon, an hour before sunset. He repeated his request a little louder to make sure that Bill got it.

Bill opened his eyes and ran a hand over his face, apparently still tired. For a moment he wished there would be someone else to nurse his friend but then he sighed, feeling selfish for coming up with such thoughts when he should be glad that Jack was alive (and he really was) He glanced down his chest to see dark, bloodshot, hungry eyes staring at him from a battered face that made his heart ache with sympathy. Fortunately the swellings had already gone down a bit…

"I take it yer hungry? Fine, get off of me 'n I'll ring the bell."

Jack chuckled at the idea of two pirates having their own personal butler and tried to move when a pained yelp slipped his lips. "Owwww… Bill, tell the guy who's poking me shoulders with glowing hot knifes to stop it. Immediately."

"Um, Jack, there's no one here but us."

"Not?" Jack would have turned his head to glance over his shoulders if he had been able to but since he wasn't he decided to trust Bill who had a better sight of the things happening behind his back.

"Certainly not."

"Painkillers… please."

Bill opted against it since there was no medical reason to drug him. "Just lemme get up."

Jack refused to move, claiming it wasn't possible, so Bill had to shove him aside though he tried to do it as carefully as possible. Nevertheless his friend winced and whimpered that he almost felt guilty for not giving him more laudanum. Of course, even if he had decided to drug him he would have needed to get up first since he doubted that the bottle of laudanum would come flying to his hands when he snapped his fingers. He rang the bell.

"No painkillers?" came Jack's voice from the bed, sounding sulky.

"I thought ye're hungry?"

"I'm hungry and thirsty and **hurting**. I want ye to do something against the **pain**."

Bill rummaged through his medicine bag, looking for a small jar of ointment that was good for muscular aches.

"I'm dying of thirst." Jack grumbled.

Bill wished for an additional pair of hands. He had just found what he had been looking for and was about to pour a mug of tea for Jack when there was a knock at the door. He wanted to give the mug to Jack so that he could open the door but his dear friend reminded him rather pettishly that he couldn't move. Great! He put down the mug- which was apparently the wrong decision given the expression on Jack's face- and opened the door.

"Are you doing alright?" Bennet asked so cheerfully that Bill felt tempted to beat him. He resisted and snatched the bowl from Bennet's hands instead.

"Ta, everything's absolutely perfect."

"The Norringtons send their best regards. They would like to know how Captain Sparrow is faring, and Milady offers her help if required."

Bill would have delighted to accept any help but Jack mumbled from the bed that he didn't want to see any bloody body, hiding his head between the pillows. Rolling his eyes he translated that into something more polite than originally intended and shut the door after ordering another pot of tea.

"Rum… I like rum. Don't forget the rum."

"No. No rum, no drugs." Bill replied strictly as he piled up some pillows for Jack so that he could get some tea and broth into him while explaining why neither rum nor laudanum weren't any good for him considering his current condition. At that point he himself could have used a good bottle of rum. After all the excitement of springing his friend from jail, being overjoyed to have him back in one piece and merely a little battered, he was weary now and the lack of sleep from the previous days made itself felt.

Finally, Jack was sated for the moment but still remained unreasonable to why Bill was showing off the big brother disease, refusing to give him painkillers. It seemed unfair to him. What was wrong with sweet opium dreams? Though it dawned upon him that the love for sweet opium dreams had caused his friend a great deal of trouble he nevertheless was in a sulky mood.

Bill tried to ignore it with the love for an annoying, stubborn brat of a little brother since that was exactly how Jack was acting today. Sighing he picked up the small jar he had been looking for earlier on and opened it. A whiff of camphor and menthol filled the air.

"Roll over. I swear this is gonna help much better than laudanum."

"What are ye up to?" Jack shot him a sceptical glance. "It's not anything indecent… mind, I'm trusting ye, mate… OUCH!!"

A scream of pain and protest when Bill distributed the ointment on his shoulders, slightly rubbing it in, but his protest ceased soon and he relaxed. Yes, it did hurt- but on the other hand it felt so damned good the way that skilled hands were kneading and smoothing out his stiff, tense muscles. This was definitely better than any painkillers and most likely more effective since Bill seemed to know very well what he was doing as if he had a chart of his sore muscles in his head…

He was not very pleased when Bill stopped after an hour or so. "Why don't ye carry on?"

Bill felt the urgent desire to throttle him. "Ever considered I might need a rest? Or something to eat?"

"Now that ye're mentioning it, I'm hungry."

"Ye obnoxious, selfish, ungrateful **brat**!" Bill scowled before he left the room, slamming the door. He definitely needed a moment on his own, away from Jack. It hadn't been a lie that he was hungry either. Somehow he had been so busy with fussing over Jack that he had completely forgotten his own needs in the process.

He walked down the staircase, cautiously glancing around the corner before entering the kitchen. No one was there. Maybe he could find himself something to eat and then bring another bowl of broth for Jack who had been left hungry, craving for food for a long time. Suddenly he felt selfish and a pang of remorse hit him. He shouldn't have reacted so irascibly when he ought to be overjoyed that his friend was alive, no matter if he was driving him up the wall. Yes, Jack had pushed him a tad too far but he was used to his manners and should be able to ignore them with forgiving serenity. Perhaps it was just that he hadn't had time to meditate in days- and meditation was a wonderful, very helpful thing when you are friends with Captain Jack Sparrow… _a friend that has been kept in a tiny hole of a cell for seven days, chained to the wall most of the time, bereft of his so much treasured freedom, beaten up by __**yer**__ own son- and now he's getting on yer nerves because he longs for attention, affection, food and drink? Get a grip on yerself, Bootstrap! Ye might be a lousy father but ye're not a lousy friend so stop whining about him being so demanding…_

"Bootstrap Bill!" The voice made him startle though it was a soft, pleasantly surprised voice. He turned around to spot Catherine Norrington who had just entered the kitchen, cheerfully chirping. "So nice to see you. Tell me, how is Jack? Sit down and let me get you something to eat, you look like you could use some. Did Jack like the broth I made?"

Bill sat down at the big kitchen table and watched in astonishment the lady of the house buzzing through the kitchen, serving him bread, slices of cold, roasted beef, cheese, and fruits. She even fired the oven to warm more broth for Jack.

"**Ye** made it?" He asked flabbergasted, knowing that she used to be a noblewoman of high rank, and women like her were usually not to be found in the kitchen, cooking broth for battered pirates. "But ye are- ye were- a countess!"

Catherine flashed him a smile as she put down a pitcher of cold beer in front of him. "Well, that is merely a title and I never cared much about it; it definitely wasn't my heart's desire to marry an earl. I don't miss that life," a shadow flickered over her face, "I only miss my boys…"

"They broke ties with ye when ye were divorced?"

"Edward doesn't want his precious sons to associate with an adulteress," Catherine said, quickly shrugging it off and changing the topic. "When they were little and have fallen ill I used to cook broth for them; I never left that to their nanny. It always made them feel better, so I hope it might also do Jack good."

"Aye, definitely. He keeps asking for more."

"Poor Jack. It must have been a horrible time for him, alone in this cell."

_Thanks for the kind reminder,_ Bill thought, feeling guilty again. He quickly washed down his dinner with the beer and got up from the table, ready for another round of playing nanny to his obnoxious little brother. "Well, he's being cared for now."

"Indeed. Jack is a lucky man to have such a devoted friend, I give you credit for that."

Catherine filled another bowl of broth, at Bill's suggestion adding some boiled rice and chicken meat, while she told him the events of the day. Apparently the public was still unaware of Jack Sparrow's escape and if Beaufort was searching him it was being done very discreetly. Of course he wouldn't want anyone to know that his most famous prisoner had managed to flee while he had been enjoying himself at a dinner party. At the dinner party held by the very same man who otherwise would have been his most likely suspect, to be precise. Bill hoped Beaufort would never find out about that the Norringtons were indeed supporting pirates. He also hoped Rowan would return soon, bringing the letters.

After exchanging a few more polite words with Catherine, Bill walked up the staircase again, carrying a tray with a bowl of broth, some bread and two mugs of beer- Jack would definitely love to have some beer for a change, and it was acceptable from the medical point of view. He'd probably sleep very well and soundly which was good for both of them.

He opened the door and tried hard not to chuckle when he saw Jack dangling over the edge of the bed, sweeping the floor with his dreadlocks.

"I can't move," Jack breathed frustrated.

Evidently he had gotten himself in that position with an unlucky attempt to drink some tea but then the mug must have slipped his hands, spilling its contents all over the bed before rolling out of his reach. Now he couldn't get back to a more comfortable position because of his aching shoulders and general weakness although that didn't stop him from frantically kicking about with his feet. It looked like the last flutter of a stranded fish's tail fin and would have been ridiculously funny if it was not dangerously close to a lit candle.

"Blast, can't I leave ye alone for a mere moment?" Bill put down the tray and hastened to rescue the candlestick from being knocked over. So much about not being able to move but nevertheless almost setting the room ablaze. Rolling his eyes he helped his friend up and piled some pillows for him. Then he filled the fortunately not broken mug with tea. He supported him to drink while cursing him for being such a daft idiot at the same time.

Jack shot him quite an abashed look though that didn't stop him from begging to differ. "I didn't want ye to leave 'n I can't avoid asking ye where the bloody hell ye've been or why ye insisted on leaving me in the first place, but all of this pales to utter insignificance in eye of the fact that ye called me ungrateful which I'm decidedly **not**. Actually I'm a good-hearted man who's very much obliged to ye for all yer stupidly heroic efforts on me behalf, an' though I really do appreciate the kindness and patience ye're displaying towards me, a battered, hungry and thirsty pirate, I will not apologize for being hungry and thirsty after having lived through hell."

"Alright," Bill sighed as he smothered a pang of guilt, knowing that he shouldn't have left Jack alone, weak and helpless as he was. "I'm sorry. I'll accept yer non-apology an' take note of ye not being ungrateful- which still leaves ye bein' stubborn…"

"I prefer unwavering..."

"…selfish and obnoxious."

"I'm sure ye mean altruistic and amiable," Jack fluttered his lashes at him, cracking a wry smile, "and hungry."

"Oh bloody hell, spare me that puppy eye look o' yers. Doesn't really work with bloodshot, black eyes. But well," he picked up the tray, "look what I brought ye."

Jack was almost drooling when he saw the food. Something more solid than clear broth, something he could chew on instead of just slurping it. Probably he would have wolfed if down greedily within seconds- only to feel sick afterwards- if his hands weren't too shaky, his shoulders aching too much. Bill fed him patiently.

"Ye're a good man," Jack mumbled, trying to sound grateful between the last two mouthfuls. He wasn't sure if it came out like he had intended but he really was, and the feeling of gratitude increased when Bill held the pitcher to his lips. Beer! He smelled beer!

"Have a sip."

He didn't have to be told twice. It seemed to be the best thing he had tasted in a very long time, cool, bitter, and wonderfully refreshing. "Bliss… ye've got an endless heart."

Bill chuckled as he sat down next to him, raising his own pitcher. "I'll remind ye of that when ye start sulking and bawling again…"

"I don't! Ever!"

"Ye do… betimes." He smiled, warm and understanding, before he changed the subject and told Jack what he had heard from Catherine.

They talked for a while, drinking beer. Then Jack fell silent, feeling pleasantly tired and also a little drunk. He sagged in his pillows, his lids suddenly very heavy. A smile curled up his lips when Bill put their pitchers aside to tuck him in. Sometimes it just felt dammed good being pampered and to forget that he eventually was an infamous pirate captain… but well, there were times when reputation just didn't matter. It had never mattered between him and Bill… or Rowan. They truly knew him, the man behind the legends. Somehow they had managed to steal their way into his heart, not shy at all. Not scared of the dark void. Once there, they had settled down without invitation and decided to fill it with warmth and light. Not what a pirate needed… he could still hear Barbossa mocking him, '_that's exactly the attitude that lost ye the Pearl'…Ah, shut it. Ye're dead…Time to dream of cascades of red wine…_

Bill cast a last glance at Jack's slack, sleeping form before he sat down on the floor, legs crossed. He closed his eyes, his open palms resting on his knees. Then he turned his attention inward; his breathing slowed as he left impatience and restlessness behind to focus on his deep inner nature. It was a state of relaxed concentration that brought him back to himself. In the stillness and silence of meditation he found peace, serenity.

When he finally went to bed he was at ease with himself, and he woke up early in the morning, feeling relaxed and content. The first rays of the sun fell through the window. It was the perfect time to get up and practice some Tai-Chi. After a while he noticed that Jack was watching him.

"Care to join me?" He asked without stopping or even glancing at his friend but continuing his slow concentrated movements in an almost meditative manner.

"Nah. Ye know I never wanted to look like a dying swan- or, since me clothes are gone- a _naked_ dying swan. Besides, I can't move."

At this point Bill had to stop. The idea of Jack in all his naked glory performing Tai Chi, the beads in his hair jingling, was too absurd to not start chuckling. And yet- it would do him good. He tried to explain it.

"Jack, ye're not gravely wounded. Yer muscles are stiff and tense from hanging in chains for days, that's all. Some exercises, some light stretching, will ease the tension much better than just trying not to move at all."

"Or ye could give me another massage with that skilled fingers of yers."

"Sure," Bill sighed, smiling. "D'ye want breakfast first?"

"Oh, I'd be very much obliged." He didn't feel like he was starving anymore but he was nevertheless hungry and breakfast was a wonderful thing. No broth today but scrambled eggs, fresh bread, honey, and some fruits.

Jack felt so much better today; he also looked better. His face wasn't that swollen anymore and it hurt less to smile. His eyelids didn't seem to weigh tons. He was still weak but not as enormously groggy as before. Apparently he was slowly gaining strength again. If only his shoulders wouldn't ache so much. Though the feeling as if someone was poking his shoulders with glowing daggers was gone, any attempt to lift an arm still caused maddening pain. Bill's assertion that movement would ease the pain seemed to be absurd since it was movement that caused it. And yet, after all's said and done, Bill just had to prove he was right. Bloody smart ass and greatest doc ever.

The little jar looked familiar. A strong scent of menthol and camphor filled the air as Bill smeared the ointment on Jack's back. First it felt cold but when he rubbed it in with gentle hands- surprisingly gentle for hands strong enough to break a man's neck- it seemed to become warmer, radiating a pleasantly relaxing warmth.

_Probably some obscure Asian stuff,_ Jack thought amused before a stifled whimper slipped his lips. He had already forgotten how much a massage could hurt even though it was a good pain (if there was ever anything good in pain) Actually it was like the more it ached first the better it got after the first wave of ache ceased. He could almost feel his stiff muscles easing a little, thanks to Bill's skilled hands. And he took his time, working in concentration. The expression on his face reminded Jack of Bill lost in meditation, his eyes closed, his mind focussed on an invisible landscape of muscle strands running underneath his skin.

Suddenly Bill stopped, looking startled, and then Jack heard it too. The sound of heavy boots. The voices of soldiers. They were searching the house.

"Do you have any authorization for this offensive intrusion?" James Norrington asked coldly.

"We are only following orders, Sir," an officer replied.

"And I am the one who gave these explicit orders. I hope you don't intend to question my position."

Beaufort's voice. The temperature seemed to drop a few degrees. Bill reached for his pistol, slowly and very quietly.

"The notorious pirate Jack Sparrow escaped from jail the night you held your dinner party, and given your reputation for conspiring with said criminal I don't believe this is merely a coincidence."

"Oh please, don't be absurd! Do you so desperately need a scapegoat to distract attention from the lax security standards in your prison? Why are you suspecting me? I'm curious, do you think I freed Sparrow while the main dish was served or while we had our dessert?"

"I wasn't saying you did it on your own but your alibi is too perfect. Mayhap you are hiding the pirate somewhere in the house."

"Don't forget to look under the bed," James said smugly.

Meanwhile the soldiers seemed to have retreated; the sound of their boots on the floor was fading. Beaufort and Norrington remained in the office though, probably glaring daggers at each other. Even with a wall between them and the two pirates in the hidden room the mutual loathing was obvious. James despised Beaufort- among many other things- for having insulted Catherine, while it must bug Beaufort tremendously that his attempt to bribe the admiralty in London had apparently been futile. Norrington had not been discharged for dishonourable conduct from the Navy nor had be been brought to court martial for treachery.

Beaufort started to walk abound, asking questions as he went.

"Where does this staircase lead to?"

"To the kitchen."

"I'm wondering why one would need a staircase leading from the office to the kitchen?"

"Well, I am not an architect. I rented this house; I didn't built it."

"Some of the literature in these shelves," the sound of books falling to the floor, "is of a subversive nature…"

"Go and arrest the books then."

Beaufort growled and opened the cupboard. "Now what do we have here?"

In the room behind the secret door Jack panicked. He snatched the pistol from Bill's hands and aimed it at the door. Next- though only briefly- at Bill. Finally he aimed it at himself, shaking all over.

"To me it looks like an empty cupboard." James said with a casualty he didn't really feel.

Beaufort slammed shut the door with a loud bang. Bill used the opportunity to fling himself at Jack, wrestling the pistol out of his hands.

"Ye damned idiot," he hissed and slightly slapped the back of Jack's head.

"Don't think you can fool me, Norrington." Beaufort was clearly disappointed. He hadn't found anything he had hoped for. There was absolutely no evidence that the former commodore had a hand in Sparrow's escape and yet he _knew_ it was true. "I will keep a sharp eye on you. You are under arrest. If you leave this house you will have to face the consequences."

"Lord Beaufort, I am on honeymoon- I don't even want to leave the house."

Governor Charles Beaufort turned on his heels and left the room, fuming inwardly. He would have loved to wipe the smug grin off of Norrington's face, to throw him in a prison cell and let him rot there forever. Unfortunately he couldn't do that. The former commodore still had friends in high positions who would undoubtedly start to ask questions if he mysteriously disappeared. It had been a very clever idea of him to invite all high-ranking naval officers to his dinner party, to make sure that everyone of influence knew he was back in town.

James let out a sigh of relief. He sat down in one of the armchairs and allowed himself a drink.

Meanwhile, Jack tried to avoid looking Bill in the eye which wasn't so easy given that his friend was only an armlenght away, his hands on his shoulders. He wished he could bury himself under the pillows and blankets, to curl up in a corner with his shame, his… fear. Never before had he felt so utterly pathetic, so full of self-contempt.

"Bill, I…"

"Oh, shut it." Bill cut him off though there was a gentle and warm undertone in his voice. Nevertheless he felt torn between throttling or hugging Jack.

"I was…" _scared shitless of ever having to back in this hole of a cell, back to darkness, cold, and pain… back to solitude._

"I know… damned, I even understand."

"Ye do?"

"Aye. At least ye merely suffered from a temporary lack of sanity while I… well, I've been chasing the dragon…"

Jack arched a brow, gazing at his friend. Their eyes locked in silent understanding. There were more ways of deliberately getting yourself killed than just blowing your head off- none of them as messy though- but in the end chasing the dragon was one of them. Any port in a storm, anything to ease the pain when you're feeling really desperate…

James knocked on the door, asking for permission to enter which the pirates granted him. Bill watched in bewilderment the efforts Jack made to pretend he was feeling perfectly fine; he was sitting upright, the blanket draped over his shoulder in a casual way, smiling nonchalantly at James. And though James was addressing him as Jack, Bill knew that he was talking to Captain Sparrow now, the infamous pirate who never felt miserable, vulnerable and weak. Who'd never aim a pistol at his own head, who was never scared, utterly terrified. His face was a mask, his expression inscrutable although he grimaced and smiled. His true self remained hidden behind his reputation. He didn't want to show any signs of weakness in front of James so he faked a strength he didn't own. Bill rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Later, when James had left, Jack was groggy and in the mood to be pampered again. Gratefully he accepted another mug of tea.

"What the hell was all that for?" Bill wondered aloud as he tucked him in.

"Reputation," Jack mumbled barely audible. Then he fell asleep, physically and emotionally exhausted.

Bill must have fallen asleep too because when he opened his eyes again the light was different; the sun had long passed its zenith. He noticed at once that Jack was not lying in bed and sat up with a start.

"Jack?"

"Stop fretting, I'm here," came his voice from the open window. He leaned against the frame, bathed in golden sunlight. His eyes were closed; he looked relaxed and yet in a thoughtful mood. After taking a deep breath he gazed briefly at Bill before shutting his lids again. "Guess ye're gonna tell me to get me arse back to bed."

"No, 'tis alright. Ye don't have to stay in bed if ye don't feel like, just try to not collapse."

"Ye know, mate, I don't wanna sound ingrate nor is it my intention to complain but I cannot avoid to feel like I have traded a dark, clammy and lonely prison cell for one that's warm and bright, although I readily admit that I prefer yer company to solitary confinement. This window isn't barred and yet these walls are restricting like a golden cage whereas I long for freedom. I miss the sea; I can see it from here but I can merely take a glimpse of it which doesn't bring me any horizons…"

"Great, yer condition is improving." Bill concluded, quite glad that Jack finally had more in mind again than just eating, drinking and sleeping. He got up and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, following his glance. The setting sun was blinding but its warmth and the gentle breeze on his face felt good. He understood how much Jack must have missed that.

"It's like imprisonment in cosy togetherness."

"Ye're not imprisoned, Jack. Ye can go wherever ye please- although I'd recommend ye to get dressed before ye start roaming the house."

Jack looked down at himself as if he hadn't noticed that he was stark naked but then again he wasn't prudish and couldn't care less that he was only covered by sunlight. "Aye, me clothes are gone- why are me clothes gone?"

"'Cause they were dirty rags. I'll check whether the maids have already washed them so that ye can leave the room without anyone blushing, but before ye think about going anywhere else we should better wait for Rowan to return. Things will be much easier if Norrington holds the letters in his hands."

Jack sighed. "How long will it take for Rowan to show up here? Mind, I feel humbly grateful for all yer efforts on my behalf and I really love ye like a brother but when it comes to cuddling I'd rather rest me weary head in the soft valley of her tits than at yer hairy chest- no offence intended."

"None taken," Bill laughed. For a moment he thought about Tao and how much he missed her embrace before he focussed his mind on Jack's question again. Rowan had left Port Royal on the morning of Jack's escape from jail and given that it took them nearly two days to cross the island on horseback it would take her at least one more day to return. That, he told Jack, adding that he still couldn't understand her fondness of horses.

Jack, however, begged to differ, an ambitious smirk on his lips. "That- most likely- is due to the often suppressed desire of women to dominate. She just likes to be on top."


	29. A Moment's Peace

chapter 29- A Moment's Peace

Lord Charles Beaufort let his gaze wander over the perfectly shaped body of his lover, his broad shoulders, the strong muscles of his arms and chest. His eyes trailed down over a flat, hard belly and slim hips to his long, athletic legs that were entwined with his own. The stature of a God, the Roman God of Love. His skin was like cream, now glistening with sweat and oil in the flickering candlelight. A face of such exquisite beauty that it almost hurt to look at him. Angelic features, dark eyes rimmed by long, thick lashes, a lush mouth. Lips that held the promise of heaven on earth, the memory of him sucking, swallowing him…

He let out a suppressed moan.

"Mylord, what is worrying you? Did your most mumble servant fail to please you? If so, you ought to punish me." Angelo produced a pair of handcuffs and a whip, both well tended and certainly not designed for use in prison. These items were made for more delicate flagellation; the handle of the whip was wrapped in black velvet which also lined the manacles made of silver. He shot Beaufort a glance that was almost feverish with desire. "Whatever is troubling you, please vent it on me."

He would always willingly fulfill Beaufort's darkest desires, in fact he even yearned for it. There was so much pleasure in pain and he embraced it like a vessel that longed to be filled only to turn it into a mighty weapon later, a fiery sword aimed against all those who were not obedient to his master's commands. Then, he would be the one who distributed pain, finding equal pleasure in it. He was the perfect avenging angel, devoted in bed but cruel and ruthless in the world outside their private chamber.

The request was hard to resist. Beaufort though about it as he let his fingers run through his lover's thick, curly hair. He took a handful of it in a tight grip, thus forcing Angelo to bend his head so that he could ravage his mouth in a devouring kiss. He tasted good, of love and lust, and yet he was not in the mood to play games tonight.

"You don't want me?" Angelo asked disappointed when Beaufort let go of him.

"I will always want you, _amore__mio_. I want give you a hard ride and lose myself in you until I am too spent to think about all the things that bother me, particularly Sparrow's escape from jail. There is still no trace of that damned pirate, as if the earth has swallowed him. And yet I _**know**_ that he is still in Port Royal."

Angelo propped himself up on one elbow to study Beaufort's face. To him it was beautiful to behold except for the worried lines around his eyes. He wanted to kiss them away; he couldn't stand to see his lover so distressed.

"Do you still suspect the former commodore, Charles?"

It didn't happen often that Angelo called him by his first name, and never in public. But here, in the intimacy of their chamber, candlelight flickering over their naked bodies, the rules of society didn't matter anymore. Here, they could finally be themselves without any restrictions, without having to carefully avoid even the most secret touch, without anyone around to criticize or demonize their love.

Beaufort sighed. "I thought I gave Lord Ridgeway explicit instructions on how to deal with Norrington but apparently he managed to slip the charges of the Admiralty; he is not suspended from duty. Instead he is on honeymoon, showing off with his adulterous former countess. Unfortunately he is still well liked among Port Royal's naval officers as that farce of a dinner party has proven. I simply can't think of a discreet way to get rid off him, and that is irritating me tremendously."

"Have you have already ruled out the possibility of a tragic accident happening to him?"

"Any constructive idea is welcome, my dearly beloved."

Angelo smirked smugly. "I will withdraw my men from his house later. Let him think himself safe and free. Then we'll lure him into a trap, and the bait is his dear friend Groves."

"Splendid! Ah, sei il mio angelo." Beaufort said proudly as he bent his head to kiss him hard. His hands trailed along his lover's body, enjoying the touch of warm skin over solid muscles. He would never cease to pine for him. "Groves and his pathetic pangs of conscience are truly bothersome, I certainly won't lament being rid off him. I will promptly issue an arrest warrant… Oh!" He gasped surprised when suddenly he felt a hand between his legs, rubbing and squeezing, making him forget about warrants. All he could think of was the passion burning hot in his veins.

"Not now," Angelo purred seductively, "it's been so long since we could last spend a whole night together so tonight is for _amore_. Please… I want you so much."

Beaufort didn't have to be told twice but took advantage of his pleading lover. He groaned out loud with pure desire.

It had been love at first sight, that day in Venice when he had met with the d'Abruzzo family and their comely son. One look into his dark, innocent Italian eyes and he was lost. It was still a mystery to him that this exceptional beauty with angelic features had immediately felt the same for him. No forceful seduction had been needed- instead, the thirteen year old and not quite so innocent lad had snuck into his bed the same night… and had never failed him ever since.

Later, they were lying spent and exhausted in each other's arms, the sheets soaked with sweat and lust. Angelo cuddled up closer to his beloved, kissing his smiling face. It was so good to see him smile. He knew, he should have told him about the missing love letters but he didn't want to spoil this wonderful night.

-

Dark. It was dark. Jack sat up, panting, only to realize that he wasn't back in that hole of a cell. It had merely been a dream. He let out a relieved sigh. The bed was warm and cosy, and Bill was snoring. Nevertheless, he couldn't fall asleep again. The air was stuffy, the walls too close, closing him in, suffocating him.

Jack rose from the bed; it was a painful procedure. His shoulders were stiff again but on one point Bill had been right. It **did** get better when he was moving.

He shuffled to the window, opened it, and took a deep breath. The air was fresh and cool. It was quiet outside, as if the world was awaiting the birth of a new day in silent awe. The sky was still dark but the stars had already gone pale; it wouldn't take long for the sun to rise. In the darkness shadows formed indistinct silhouettes that slowly gained shape with the first dim light. First, everything just looked grey. The trees in the garden, the sea, the range of hills on the other side of the bay. The Hellshire Hills, Jack remembered. He had stood there, on a distant cliff, watching how hell had broken lose over Port Royal on the day of the earthquake…

Then, as the light increased and the sun proceeded to leave its nightly hiding place in the far north to show up on the eastern horizon, the colors seemed to be rushing back to the world, painting the trees green, the garden wall white, the sea blue.

At sea, this hours of day was usually quiet (well, except for the sounds of a ship under sails, of course- the creaking of planks, the clattering of the rigging and the rustling of wind-filled canvas.) The air smelled salty, and the horizon looked overwhelmingly magnificent in its majestic glory.

Sunrise at shore was different since Jack's view was restricted by walls, and it was accompanied by much more noise; like the orchestra of birds that suddenly started chirping and singing. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked.

The air smelled different too. Though there was a faint whiff of salt it was mingled with the scent of flowers and damp soil.

And yet he embraced it all with the knowledge that he wasn't chained to the wall in a poor excuse of a prison cell anymore, that he was free although the walls around him were wearing him down. After all, all it took was to leave this room, to walk out of it.

Jack glanced at Bill, still peacefully snoring, and mulled over whether to wake him because he was hungry again- damned, never before in his life he had been so desperately starving for food, drink, affection… _Get a grip on yerself now, Jack! Go to the kitchen if ye're hungry- no need to wake Bill when there will probably be some lovely maids scurrying around, eager to fulfill yer wishes, easy to flatter…_

Unfortunately there was no maid around.

"Wake up ye lazy sot!" Jack put down the tray with shaking hands and nudged his friend's shoulder not too gently.

Bill opened his eyes, shut them in disbelief, and risked another glance. There really was a tray in front of him and it was loaded with food. A lot of food. He arched a quizzical brow at Jack. "_**Ye**_ made breakfast for us?"

"No. I was hungry and since ye were so lovely snoring I had to get myself something to eat all on my onesies but being the truly generous and big-hearted man that I am, I'm willing to share my booty with ye. Tea?"

"Yes, please," Bill answered flabbergasted. _Jack had boiled __**tea**_

"Help yerself." Jack pointed at the pot with a chicken leg he was gnawing at but made no attempt to fill their mugs in fear he could spill the tea, and he certainly didn't want his shaking hands to give away how faint he was after merely plundering the kitchen. He had almost thought he wouldn't make it up the staircase again.

Bill noticed it anyway but didn't comment on it. There was no need to remind Jack of his weakness and discourage him when in fact his condition was improving. He had to get up and start walking around, and he probably knew his own limits. Or maybe not, as the fully loaded tray proved. "Ye didn't really intend to eat all that on yer own, did ye?"

Jack shot him an uncomprehendingly glance that seemed to say, 'why not?' but then again modesty had never been his strength. He put down the tidily stripped clean chicken bone, slurped some tea, and continued with bread, honey, and cheese. Not to forget the slices of cold roast, the fruits, another chicken leg…

Bill rolled his eyes. If Jack carried on with randomly stuffing food in his mouth he would sooner or later feel sick but he didn't have the heart to stop him.

"Slowly, I won't take anything from ye," he said gently and to his surprise Jack did actually listen to him. Or perhaps he remembered that it was below his dignity to gobble down all the food like a desperately starved man when he had generously offered to share it.

"I'm surprised ye boiled tea," Bill said after a while.

"'Course I would've preferred a good bottle o' rum but I wasn't in the mood to argue with ye." Jack let out a satisfied belch, then stretched himself out of the bed and pulled the blanket over his shoulders, flashing Bill a sleepy smile. "Gonna take a li'le nap now…"

"Ye're alright, mate?"

"Mh-hm." It was only half the truth but he didn't want to admit that he wasn't even in the mood to drink any rum. At the moment it merely required a pitcher of beer to get him slightly drunk and he didn't want to get drunk; he felt vulnerable enough while sober.

"I assume I can leave ye alone for a while and have a chat with our hosts then?"

"Mhmpf."

Bill interpreted that as yes so he felt free to leave the room. He had to hear from Norrington how things were in Port Royal after yesterday's house search since he doubted that Beaufort had already given up looking for Jack.

Suddenly, he had almost reached the staircase, a shrieking yell from the kitchen startled him through he possibly wasn't as startled as the screaming maid. What had happened? Were Beaufort and his men back, threatening the poor girl? No, he decided, apparently not. He heard the voices of the Norringtons, soothing her, while she kept on babbling about an intruder who had devastated the kitchen and was probably still lurking somewhere.

Bill walked down the stairs and got a notion of what the maid was about for the kitchen looked a total mess. All the cupboard doors stood open as if someone had rummaged through them, a jar of flour was lying broken on the floor, white dust everywhere, and the kettle on the oven was rattling- empty, overheated and forgotten. However, no hostile attack had taken place here but merely…

"Oh bugger, Jack made breakfast."

Catherine, James and the maid stared at him, a priceless expression on their faces. Then Catherine laughed out loud.

"No surprise the kitchen looks a mess, but I'm honestly glad to hear he is feeling better. Why did he not come down with you? I'm sure sitting in the garden would do him good."

"Well, causing that," Bill pointed at the chaos, hiding an amused smile, "must have exhausted him. He's taking a little nap so that he'll soon be ready for mischief again." He thought about Catherine's last words. It would certainly do Jack good to sit in the garden, at least he'd feel less imprisoned there, but he wondered whether that was a wise idea. Bill glanced at James. "Is the garden really a safe place considering that Beaufort's men are searching Port Royal for Jack?"

"Mr Bennet assured me that it is. Apparently the path leading from the graveyard isn't known to Beaufort's men so none of them will appear anywhere near the back of the house."

"Aye," Bennet, who just came entering the kitchen from the garden, agreed. "Actually, the far end of the graveyard is said to be haunted since some graves were swallowed by the sea in the tidal wave following the earthquake. The souls of the dead are spooking there… Oh," he looked at Catherine, "I beg your pardon, Milady. It was not my intention to scare you."

James and Bill exchanged glances, doubting that Catherine was so easy to frighten. Even when facing the horrors of Kalpitiya she hadn't panicked but remained calm and controlled.

"It's funny that people in a modern English town believe in ghost stories," she said.

"Well, this town has seen the attack of undead pirates so yes, the people here do believe in ghost stories. Anyway, it's serving our purpose. Beaufort's men are merely observing the front door."

"Are these men naval officers?" James asked.

Bennet shook his head. "No. You were right to assume that Beaufort cannot justify his suspicion against you so an official observation would most likely appear to be arbitrary. Those watching the house are Angelo's men, bloody villains."

"I suspected as much." James turned to address Bill but noticed that the pirate must have left the kitchen and walked into the garden. He followed him and saw him standing lost in thoughts near the rose bed. "Are you admiring the roses or are you the one scared of ghost stories?"

"I was part of a ghost story once." Bill replied with a sigh, still shuddering inwardly. An ice cold shiver had ran down his spine when the memory of Barbossa and the course had suddenly been brought back to his mind (though he had never really forgotten it either) He had had to get out of the kitchen, into the bright sunlight, to fight off the stale aftertaste of eternally reoccurring nightmares. Of drowning… It was always better when he could feel the sun on his face as if the light and the warmth kept the notion of the effect of the curse at bay.

"So it seems we all have our own demons to bear." James said a bit stiffly since he didn't know what else to say.

"I always recommend meditation."

-

David Bennet was on watch that night, guarding the house and its inhabitants like he and some of the other servants had done every night since they started harboring two pirates in a secret room. He did believe that the ghost stories about the graveyard would scare off any intruder from trying to enter through the garden but on the other hand Beaufort was an incalculable risk, an unscrupulous man. It was always better to be safe than sorry.

The house was dark now, all lights had gone out. If there was still a candle burning in the secret room he couldn't tell from his position. Perhaps you could see that from the other side of the bay if you had a good telescope but Bennet doubted it.

It was a beautiful Caribbean night; the air was filled with the scent of flowers and a gentle wind was blowing. Above him myriads of stars were sparkling from a velvet black sky. He took a deep breath when all of a sudden a shiver ran down his spine. Bennet looked around, wondering whether he himself had now become a victim of ghost stories. However, there had been a noise startling him. It was a faint, _creaking_ sound… as if someone had opened the door in the garden wall. He scurried there to aim his musket at the intruder when he heard a pistol being cocked from somewhere slightly behind him.

"D'ye think it's wise, boy, to shoot the one who might be carrying the letters Norrington is so keen on?"

Bennet lowered his musket in recognition. "Oh, Miss… um, Captain Scarlett! It's you…"

"Aye." Rowan lowered her own weapon, still being cautious though. She had never trusted any naval officers or other officials, and the fact that Bennet and Norrington were discreetly working for a secret agency was definitely not going to change her attitude. "What about Jack?"

"He's safe and sound. Do you have the letters?"

"I want to see Jack first."

"Of course." Bennet led her through the garden when he noticed how tired she looked. No wonder given that she had spent days on horseback. There was no need to push the delivery of the letters, he decided since he wouldn't wake up his lord- and ladyship now anyway. Milady needed her well-deserved rest and so did Rowan Scarlett.

"Is he alright?" She asked, fear and worries softening the rough edges of her voice.

"Yes, thanks to Bootstrap Bill he is recovering quite well." Bennet flashed her a wry smile, remembering the devastated kitchen. "By the way, they were dining with the Norringtons in the garden this evening, and later they were sitting under the old mango tree for a while, smoking cigars. You only missed them by an hour or two. Now they're in the secret room, probably asleep. But I'm sure Jack Sparrow will be very pleased to see you nonetheless."

Rowan thanked him when he left her at the foot of the staircase. With weary legs but full of anticipation she climbed up the stairs, crossed the office and entered the secret room behind the cupboard.

Jack and Bill were lying in bed, sleeping. For a second she hesitated, not knowing whether to wake them or simply snuggle up close to Jack and fall asleep since she didn't only look tired- she **was** damned tired. She had just decided not to disturb the cozy atmosphere when suddenly Jack sat up with a start, aiming a pistol at her. Then he dropped it again, merely a heartbeat later, as he recognized her.

"Rowan! Luv!" He beamed cheerfully and opened his arms wide in an inviting gesture that she eagerly followed. Stumbling over Bill- who was now fully awake- she flung herself in Jack's arms.

She wanted to hold him, pepper kisses all over him, ask a thousand questions and take a good look at him all at the same time. He really seemed to be alright, fortunately. The thought that there were things that didn't leave visible scars briefly crossed her mind but slipped it again when he kissed her.

"Ah, ye're back." Bill commented dryly, feeling a bit superfluous here. "Mayhap I should find meself another place to sleep then…"

"No, no, I don't have any problem with sharing the bed with two good-looking pirates."

"Well, I have no problem with sharing a bed with a lovely woman either but…"

"Stop that! Immediately!" Jack cut him off as he possessively gathered Rowan in his arms. "Don't abuse my general generosity. There will be no sharing here."

"Shut it, boys. I'm sore and tired, and all I want now is to sleep."

"Aye, luv… whate'er ye want. 'Tis juss so good to 'ave ye back," he breathed in her ear, feeling kind of sleepy too. They all fell silent as they settled down back to sleep. Then, Jack snuggled up closer to Rowan as if he had changed his mind, nuzzling her hair, kissing the soft curve of her neck. Suddenly he stopped, snuffling. He snuffled again, more deeply this time, and as a result he wrinkled his nose. "Ugh! Ye smell of horses…"

"Ta." She elbowed him not all gently. If she hadn't been too tired to argue she would have pointed out the arduous efforts she had taken on **his** behalf, that she had ridden twice across this goddamned island just to get these bloody letters. She turned her back on him indignantly. "Ye're such an insufferable ass sometimes."

Nevertheless she was glad when he wrapped his arm around her waist, glad to fall asleep in his embrace. After days of worrying about him it was so good to know he was safe and sound and- well, just typically Jack. Even if that meant he was insufferable betimes.

He whispered something in her ear that included horses and an ambiguous offer to which she grumpily replied that she was definitely **not** in the mood to spread her legs now.

The last thing she heard before falling asleep was Bill's poor attempt to suppress an amused chuckle.

The sun was just beginning to rise when Jack woke up, a warm feeling in his heart. For the first time in longer than he could remember he was utterly happy. It was so good to hold Rowan in his arms again, to watch her while she was sleeping. She looked so peaceful that he didn't want to wake her and yet he couldn't resist to sweep a strand of unruly hair from her face.

She smiled before she sleepily opened her eyes, whispering his name.

He bent over to kiss her softly. "I missed ye."

"Missed ye too."

Bill overheard their quiet exchange and decided that his presence here was certainly neither needed nor desired, so he rose from the bed to give them a moment of privacy.

"If anyone's missing me, I'll be in the garden, doing my weird Asian stuff," he informed them.

"I mightily appreciate yer sense of discretion. Ye're a diamond, mate. Now get lost 'n take care."

"Talking 'bout taking care," Rowan lifted her head to glance over Jack's shoulder at Bill. "Ye're the doc- d'ye think it's wise to leave me alone with that bloody scallywag, knowing what he's up to?"

"Shh! He always _loves_ to show off the doc stuff so don't remind him… although, if I remember correctly, he actually kept on telling me that a little movement would do me good but I never got the meaning until now." Jack said while indicating what sort of movement he had in mind.

"I'm not sure he was thinking about **that**."

"Well, from the medical point of view there are no objections…"

"Oh, get lost!" Jack snorted, throwing a pillow at his friend to underline his words. He was laughing though, and so was Bill when he left the room. Then he glanced at Rowan. "Now, where did we stop?"

She pulled him closer to kiss him again. It was a sweet kiss full of loving affection that she didn't break for a long time, and yet it seemed to him that she wasn't really in the mood for some wild, passionate tussle between the sheets. Strangely, he didn't mind. At least not that much. Of course he wanted her- he'd always want her- but she was more to him than just a good screw. Their relationship was not based on lust only and he had long given up to marvel about that. It had definitely not been his intention to fall in love with her but he couldn't help loving her; it was like a curse. A wonderful curse.

He propped himself up on one elbow to study her face. She eyed him with languid curiosity, making him want to drown in these magnificent green orbs, the color of a calm bay in sunshine. A smile curled up his lips. He could definitely imagine the scary thought of spending the rest of his life with her for he'd probably never get tired of this beautifully headstrong, vivacious, intelligent, wanton and yet caring woman. She was the port where he could settle down, where he wouldn't have to prove himself or his reputation over and over again. She knew him but had the nerve to love him nonetheless.

"What's up?" Rowan asked smilingly as she reached out to caress his cheek. In the daylight she could clearly see the faded bruised on his face, the rosy welt that ran across his chest- reminders of the suffering he had to endure in prison- and she wished she could make it undone. "Ye're alright, Jack?"

He kissed the frown off her face and cuddled up closer to her. His shoulders were still slightly stiff and aching, especially in the morning so he had to find a more comfortable position. It dawned upon him that she might feel equally sore but for different reasons since riding across the island a couple of times must be quite arduous even for someone who likes to be on top. "I'm fine. How 'bout ye?"

She shrugged, obviously not wanting to talk about herself when Jack was the one who undoubtedly had been worse of recently. "It must have been like hell for ye…"

"Pretty much," he agreed, although he didn't like to be reminded of how horrible it had been to be depraved of freedom, horizons, and the only two souls he cared about- not to mention hunger and thirst. Then he suddenly figured out what she was actually worrying about, indicating without speaking it out. Randy Charly and his wicked ways… "Ah, don't misinterpret my loving restraint and understanding of yer non-existent desire to be seduced with something that never happened since he didn't molest me in any way other than offending me with the inappropriate and actually downright lousy standards of his prison, which for some reason reminds me of breakfast- or not having breakfast."

"Breakfast?" Rowan arched a quizzical brow at him as if she couldn't quite follow what he was about now.

"Well, I'm positive ye must be hungry, luv, so what say ye to plundering Norrington's larder?"

"Now that's a great idea."

Jack gestured Rowan to sit down at the table while he filled the kettle with water, knowing that she loved a good cup of tea in the morning. Actually he didn't mind having one either since he was slowly getting used to it. Was it written in the Code that pirates had to drink rum all the time? And even if it was, he considered them guidelines anyway. Sighing, he shrugged off the thought and started to rummage through the larder, aware of the fact that she was watching him in astonishment. Apparently she hadn't expected him to be such a caring man, one who saw to it that his woman wasn't left hungry… even though it really wasn't a big thing to plunder a larder. After all, he was a pirate and therefore good in plundering, and he had already reconnoitered the whole kitchen yesterday. He knew where the Norringtons were hiding their goodies.

Unfortunately, he was caught in the act today when suddenly a maid entered the kitchen, shrieking hysterically. Jack let out a startled yelp and dropped the plate he was holding in his hands. The very same moment the kettle of water on the oven was boiling over.

The maid clapped her hands in despair and shooed him away, shooting him a grim glance. "Oh no, I won't let you devastate my kitchen again. Don't touch anything and sit down."

As a master of grand gestures, Jack sketched a bow while taking off an invisible hat to her. "Ye're the chief."

The scene was so hilarious that Rowan burst out laughing. "Ye devastated the kitchen?".

"Nah, I merely got meself something to eat the other day but this sweet lass is making such a fuss about it…"

She tsked indignantly. "You are an incorrigible scallywag, Captain Sparrow."

"Captain Jack Sparrow, the terror of domestic peace and great demolisher of kitchens," Rowan chuckled, still mightily amused. Paying no heed to a huffily sulking maid who didn't think it funny at all she moved closer to Jack and kissed him.

"Now will you please stop this and show a little sense of propriety! This is a decent house and I will not tolerate any decline of moral standards just because… Oh my God!" The maid fell silent and pointed to the open door. "A dragon!"

Jack's glance followed her outstretched arm, grinning. "Nah, that's just dear ol' Bill doing his weird Asian stuff."

"But… but he's half naked and painted all over!"

"Tattooed," he corrected her.

"Whatever you call it- tell him to spare us the sight. This is scandalous! If he cannot keep himself from performing heathen rituals in a decent Christian town he should at least dress properly."

"I don't get it- is there anything wrong with the sight of a good-looking, tattooed pirate?" Rowan interjected innocently.

The maid ignored her, waiting for Jack to take action, and since he didn't want to bother Bill with trivialities (such as wearing a shirt while doing his weird Asian stuff) he decided to merely shut the door. Now there was only one dragon left but she did him the favor of leaving shortly after, probably to inform her employers of unreasonable working conditions due to constantly misbehaving pirates. However, the breakfast she had served before taking her leave was definitely good.

A little later Catherine entered the kitchen and let out a squeal of joy when she spotted Rowan. Immediately she hurried to give her a welcoming hug. If the maid following in her wake had complained about them she had the grace to not show it.

"Rowan! Oh my God, it's so good to see you again, safe and sound. I sincerely hope your long ride wasn't too exhausting?"

"I'm fine." Rowan assured her notwithstanding the fact that she was still feeling a tad tired and sore. But that didn't matter now since she certainly wasn't someone who'd start whining about hard times. Instead she told Catherine what she probably required to hear most, "You might want to inform your husband that I've got the letters he's so keen on."

"That's good news. James will be pleased to hear that." Catherine replied with a smile that was somehow absent-mindedly as if she didn't really care about the letters. "Did Jack tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I'm pregnant!"

Rowan wasn't sure whether congratulation or sympathy would be in order now, considering the idea of a small Norrington who'd probably be born with a stick in his arse just like his dad. But then she relied on Catherine's influence and found some friendly words to hide the fact that she wasn't overly excited about the news.

That moment James joined them. For the first time since she had made his acquaintance some years ago he didn't give the impression of a stiff Royal Navy officer, and she was surprised that he did actually look quite attractive when he smiled. Of course there was no reason to smile so proudly while gazing at Catherine- after all, it wasn't such a big thing to get a woman pregnant- and it didn't change the tension between Rowan and James either. She still didn't like him much and he made no secret of being equally skeptical about her. They tried to behave politely though, which was definitely harder for her than for him.

"Pleased to meet you, Milady Captain. May I require if you have succeeded in your mission to bring me evidence for Lord Beaufort's crimes?"

Before Rowan could answer, Catherine reprimanded her husband. "Oh please, James, give her a break. Rowan must be tired from her arduous ride across the island so do me a favor and forget about those letters until she has had time to relax and take a good hot bath, will you?"

"Now that's a truly wonderful idea." Jack smirked when Catherine shooed the maids to draw a bath for Rowan.

Rowan sighed with pleasure as she sank neck deep into warm water, feeling her sore muscles relax. When it came to taking a bath she could completely forget that she had made herself a reputation as a pirate captain and simply enjoyed being a woman.

The last days had been hard and not only in the sense of physical strain but even more because of the tormenting uncertainty of not knowing what Jack had to endure in prison. She had blamed herself for having left him alone that night he was captured although she knew as well that there was nothing she could have done. You just can't go and insist on guarding the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow when he merely wanted to follow the call of nature; he would have thought it absurd. Damned Jack. And yet it had been her who had landed him in this mess because of her ship and the promise she had given Tao. So much love and hate on the crossing from Madras to the Caribbean, and when things had finally begun to improve between them, after all the secrets had been spilled, she'd had to fear that she had lost him forever due to Beaufort's henchmen. At least all her worries had made certain the fact that she still loved this bloody scallywag. The realization had first hit her with a kiss aboard the Black Pearl and then had manifested in her heart. Mayhap Tao was right with her assertion that even though things would never be like they used to they could still get better…

Closing her eyes Rowan dunked her head under water, trying to shut up all these thoughts in her mind. She wanted to relax and not to brood, mulling things over. For a little while she wanted to forget all the troubles and worries that were still lurking for them outside of the putative safety of these walls, and merely concern herself with things as banal as washing her hair.

Suddenly she sensed that she wasn't alone anymore. Had the maid returned, not believing that she could wash her hair all on her onesies and might need help? Well, help she got but it weren't the hands of a humble maid. These hands were rougher, calloused, and yet gentle.

"Jack!" She concluded without turning around. "What are ye doing here?"

He stopped massaging her scalp and kissed her wet cheek before he poured water over her head with cupped hands, rinsing her hair. "Methinks it's not appropriate to let a simple maid deal with such delicate affairs since she might be startled by the adorable sight of a naked pirate captain whereas ye can't expect me to miss the opportunity of adoring that specific sight."

"Ye're an incorrigible charmer…"

"I'm only telling the truth, luv."

"…and ye're way too obsessed with my bloody red hair."

"Not blood- **wine**."

Rowan rolled her eyes. "Ye know, I really wonder if that's the only reason ye fell in love with me, because of that damnable hair color?"

"Ah, ye should've seen yerself taking off that hat of yers and shaking out cascades of red wine which was truly impressive. I instantaneously thought of wine 'cause it's exactly the same color as an exquisite glass of red wine held up to the light of a candle, but to honestly answer yer question I must confess that I don't know whether I had given ye a second glance if not for the exceptional color of yer hair. However, since yer hair is as wonderful as it is I consider the question mightily superfluous." Unnoticed by Rowan he had stripped and was nudging her gently now so that she would give room to let him slid into the tub. Puddles of water slopped over the sides when he tried to make himself comfortable but it didn't work as he had expected. "It's really not that big, isn't it?" He let out a dramatic sigh. "Ye might say whatever ye want 'bout Alf but ye can't deny his sense of style and ye have to bless him for the luxury of his bathrooms."

Rowan chuckled as she cuddled up to him. Of course Captain Jack Sparrow would not take a bath for the sake of cleanliness, he always had to have ulterior motives. While enjoying his proximity she remembered the good old times when they had flooded Santiago's bathroom in Tortuga or similar naughty games they had played in the tub. But he was right, this tub was way too small for any fun; it was hardly big enough for both of them to fit in. There was absolutely no room to even think about sexual activities. Probably that might have something to do with the fact that the ordinary bath tub of a decent English household was not constructed for sensual pleasures. Actually it wasn't even set up in a bathroom but in one of the guest rooms. The good thing was that the bed wasn't far away.

Some hours later Jack woke up because the whole house seemed to be restless. He got up from the bed, eager to find out what was going on. A smile curled up his lips when he glanced at Rowan and remembered what Bill had said about a little movement. He had been right, Jack mused, he was actually feeling much better. For the first time in days his shoulders weren't aching.

"What's up?" Rowan asked as she sat up and ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tame some unruly strands that were falling in her face. The way she was covered with cascades of red wine flowing over her naked shoulders made Jack forget for a moment what he was about.

"Ye look absolutely stunning, luv. So sensual and wanton, and so… naked. I'd rather crawl back to bed with ye but unfortunately there's something going on that I don't want to miss."

It didn't take them long to find out what had happened. Bennet had brought the news that Lieutenant Groves had been arrested for conspiring with pirates, and Norrington was fuming. The former Commodore had just finished reading the letters and was more than eager to take action against Lord Beaufort.

"He is clearly abusing his position with this arbitrary arrest. I will pay him a visit and confront him with these letters…"

"I wouldn't do that if I were ye unless of course ye want to get yerself shot which he will most definitely do quite unceremoniously and without even blinking an eye." Jack cut him off when he and Rowan entered the salon where Bennet, the Norringtons and Bill had assembled. "D'ye really want yer child to become a fatherless orphan before it is born?"

Catherine let out a startled gasp.

"Of course not," James comfortingly patted his wife's arm before turning his attention to Jack, "but I cannot sit back and take things easy either. Lord Beaufort is violating the law and I will not let a loyal naval officer like Lieutenant Groves become a victim of his ruthless politics. By the love for my King, I cannot let him go unpunished. He has to pay for his crimes- mind, His Royal Highness, King William III, will not mourn the death of Asian pirates or Spanish smugglers but he does take offense in high treason."

"Confront him with that and he's got another reason to shoot ye on the spot which leaves us with nothing in our hands but the knowledge that Randy Charly is a lowdown bastard dressed in fancy clothes though we unfortunately have no proof for it. Ye can't possibly want to diminish Rowan's endeavor of riding hell for leather to get ye the letters with such a poorly thought up plan."

"Do you have any better idea, Captain Sparrow?" James snapped, sounding frustrated because he was feeling helpless. Under no circumstances he wanted to risk his life or that of Catherine and his unborn child but his conscience told him that he had stop Beaufort from conspiring against his king and country; he had to stop his depraved activities.

Before Jack could answer, Bill intervened with a calm voice. "What about that piece of paper ye talked about, the one that would grant ye control over the military forces of Port Royal?"

"Bill is right, Uncle Rupert gave you a letter of plenary authority, James." Catherine said.

James thought about it, pondering aloud. "I could go to Commodore Morrison and convince him to support me in bringing an end to Beaufort's arbitrary whims by uncovering his real intentions with the help of these letters…"

"Now that sounds like the witty Jamie I was always rooting for," Jack stated smirking.

"… but is Commodore Richard Morrison a trustworthy person?" James continued regardless of the pirate's comment, "Or is he also involved in this quagmire of corruption Port Royal has become?"

"Well," Bill cleared his throat, aware of that everybody was staring at him. Though he- unlike Jack- didn't like to be the center of attention he nevertheless had to utter his opinion now since he was probably the only one of them who really knew Morrison. After all, he had lived in Port Royal for quite a while and he had seen his son becoming friends with the naval officer. "Commodore Morrison is sensible man. I'm positive that he will support ye against Beaufort given that ye can prove that Beaufort is indeed misusing his position- which ye can. He does have a soft spot for my son though and it's likely that he'd shut is eyes on anything concerning him, but on the other hand he is decidedly loyal to his king and country. I doubt that anything will actually hinder his cooperation."

"Good to know, thank you very much for the information. I will go to have a serious conversation with Commodore Morrison now."

Jack glanced at Rowan and their eyes locked in silent understanding. It was unlikely that Randy Charly's henchmen would allow the two naval officers to conspire against Beaufort; he knew that as well as she did. The way she was braiding her hair in two tight plaits told him that she was ready for mischief.


	30. Bello's Blunder

Chapter 30- Bello's Blunder

Now that Rowan was back and he didn't have to play nurse for his friend anymore, Bill felt kind of redundant. Instead of being glad to have some time off he yearned for company but didn't want to disturb the two lovers either. Suddenly he missed Tao. He knew that this time they had a fair chance given that they ever make it out of Port Royal. They had already spent too long in this bloody town and like Jack he wanted to be at sea again. At sea, aboard the Pearl, with Jack, Tao and Rowan. Whether that notion was in any way realistic he didn't know but he had shared his hopes and dreams with his friend when they had been sitting in the garden last night. At least Jack hadn't laughed. He had looked at the stars as if he could read the future in them, then he had flashed him a smile. Not that golden trademark smile of his but a more serious, thoughtful one that had made Bill believe his friend was actually planning something, whatever. Of course Captain Jack Sparrow wouldn't tell what he had in mind unless it was absolutely necessary and apparently he had decided that this wasn't. You could always count on Jack when it came to cryptic answers. _We'll need a carpenter,_ he'd merely said.

Bill tried to concentrate on meditation but failed. He couldn't focus his attention on his inner self when there were so many things buzzing around in his head; things that refused to fall silent no matter how hard he tried. He was restless, remembering the mischievous sparkle in Jack's eyes when Norrington had told him to stay inside the house until he was back. Though he had agreed he knew very well that his friend was not an obedient man, never had been. And would Rowan braid her hair if she had seduction or getting seduced in mind? Decidedly not. So what was Jack up to if it wasn't a passionate tussle between the sheets?

He got up with a sigh and went looking for his friend but couldn't find him. The guestroom he had recently shared with Rowan was empty, the messy sheets on the bed the only evidence of them, and they weren't in the secret room either. Jack and Rowan were gone. Bill cursed silently when he noticed that her weapons were also missing. Why had he not paid attention to the hints Jack had given? The damned idiot was probably about to do something stupid- or, well, typically _sparrowesque_.

Bill mulled it over and failed to come to a sensible solution. Though it was unlikely that Jack would actually need his help he couldn't stop fretting; he could not sit back and wait for him to return even if his help was neither required nor desired. There was a reason why Jack had not told him what he was up to but a leopard couldn't change its spots and Bill could not suppress his urge to protect his little brother in heart. After all, he had just recovered from his hard time in prison.

Again he roamed the house, this time looking for Catherine. He had to make sure whether she was safe when he left her alone since Bennet had accompanied Norrington to his meeting with Commodore Morrison. But at least that worry was in vain. She was sitting in the kitchen with the maids, talking about pregnancies.

Catherine smiled when she noticed Bill. "Bootstrap! Would you like to join us?"

"I just wanted to see if ye're alright."

"I'm fine- I'm overjoyed that I'm expecting James' child and I sincerely hope he will return soon. You don't believe it is dangerous for him to visit the Commodore, do you?"

"No," Bill assured her, thinking _not with Jack Sparrow being on the loose in Port Royal, likely to initiate some distracting chaos._ He rolled his eyes and walked out into the garden. At least he knew now that Catherine would be protected since there were two servants on patrol while another one, the butler Wesley, had been standing at the kitchen door, awaiting orders. All servants of this house were handpicked by the ominous Uncle Rupert, trained in protecting and spying. And yet none of them had seen Jack and Rowan leaving the property.

-

Rowan was surprised that Jack wanted her at his side while intending to do whatever- she hadn't asked him what precisely that was but she was sure he had a plan since he always had one. What surprised her though was the fact that he had chosen her over Bill to accompany him, knowing that the two of them were nigh inseparable, thick as thieves. Actually there had been times, especially during their crossing from Madras to the Caribbean, when she had almost been jealous of the familiarity they shared while she had been lonely with all her secrets.

Jack shot her a glance as if he wouldn't understand her question, so she repeated it.

"Why did ye chose me over Bill?"

"Are ye serious, luv? Ye've got tits that fit so perfectly in me hands as if they were made for me therefore they stand in no comparison to Bill's hairy chest and besides, unlike Randy Charly I'm a known womanizer… "

"Jack!" She cut him of, chucking while at the same time rolling her eyes heavenwards. "I know that but what I meant is why didn't ye ask Bill to come with ye on whatever madness ye have in mind."

"'Cause… " Searching for the right words Jack raised his hands to wag them theatrically in the air before dropping them again only to circle them around Rowan's waist a mere second later. "'Cause in love and war ye'll always be my favourite choice, and speaking of war, I honestly admire yer skills in handling a sword which is far more than I could ever say 'bout dear ol' Bill. Ye're a tough fighter, luv."

"Ta, I suppose that's what every woman wants to hear." And yet she did feel flattered.

"I could as well tell ye that ye're the best screw I ever had- which is definitely no lie- if that splendid fact wouldn't be mightily unhelpful and unfortunately utterly insignificant now." He let out a sigh. "Bill's the best mate one could ever wish for but he lacks almost everything a good pirate needs, and while I'm not keen on fighting either it could very well be that we'll have to fight to finally run away."

"Alright, so what's the plan?"

"Basically, I want to annoy Randy Charly with the fact that I'm still safe and sound despite of his efforts to render me uncomfortably deceased which at long last will distract him from paying attention to what Norrington's doing, savvy?"

"That's it?" They had already agreed on that in silent understanding before they had left the house and yet it wasn't what Rowan would call a concrete plan. Of course Jack begged to differ.

"Aye, that's it. Actually my plan is much more thought over than that poor excuse of a _plan_ ye and Bill came up with to spring me from jail."

"Well, but it worked. Ye're free…"

"That is not the point," Jack cut her off. "One would think that someone who's a brilliant doc would know of a better way to use his head than voluntarily getting himself knocked out only to deliberately land in prison with a pirate."

"I didn't like that part of the plan either but I doubt they would've locked _**me**_ in with ye, …"

"Ye're daft, both of ye."

"We have to be, otherwise we couldn't love ye."

"Aye, very unreasonable. But probably it's bad karma if I tried to change… blast! Did I really just say _bad__karma_? Bill's weird Asian stuff must be rubbing off on me. By the way, ye liked Asia too, didn't ye?"

"Aye," Rowan replied quite perplex, not knowing what he was up to now. Sometimes it was really hard to follow the logic of Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Wonderful, but first things first, and first we have to annoy Randy Charly." Jack grinned at her before he finally decided to fill her in with some more details.

-

Lord Charles Beaufort entered his office and froze to the spot at a sight he hadn't expected. At **his** desk, in **his** chair was sitting Captain Jack Sparrow in all his ragged glory, his feet resting casually on the tabletop. He stared at the soles of the pirate's boots, then at his face, and wished he hadn't. He wished he could punch that smug, cocksure grin off of Sparrow's face.

"You!" Beaufort gasped, hoping it didn't sound as dumfounded as he actually was. How had the pirate managed to slip past all the guards in this building? "That's not possible."

"Not probable, perhaps- but ye seem to be forgetting a very important thing." When Randy Charly shot him an uncomprehending glance, Jack beamed, "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Yes, I know that," Beaufort sneered, "but that pathetic fact does not impress me. What makes you believe that I will **not** ring the bell and have you arrested in less than a minute?"

"Because ye write such charming love letters."

"I have no idea what you are babbling about."

"_Oh Angelo, mio bello, ti amo più di tutto_- does that have a familiar ring to ye?"  
Beaufort blanched. He had explicitly ordered Angelo to destroy all the letters he had ever sent to him and yet it seemed as if the pirate not only knew about them but also had read them.

"As far as it concerns me you have merely proven that you can read but that is still no reason why I should not call the guards and arrest you. I hardly believe you will be able to cause a scandal from jail."

He made an attempt to raise alarm when Jack's voice stopped him.

"Call the guards." The pirate said while casually studying his fingernails. "I fear though that unfortunately I won't be able to guarantee bello Angelo keeping his exceptional beauty then. Or his potency, if ye know what I mean- snip-snip- but he'll probably have a lovely singing voice afterwards…"

"You wouldn't dare to do that!" Beaufort snarled, thumping the table with his fist. He leaned over the desk in a threatening way and Jack quickly put down his feet to keep some distance. "Harm a hair of his head and I swear you will seriously regret it."

"My, ye really got a nasty temper- ever tried meditation?"

"Where's Angelo?"

"He's in the safe custody of someone who cares about me and while we have no intention of harming a hair of yer bello's head that might change if I don't return unharmed."

Charles growled frustrated; it was so hard to keep composure when all he wanted was to throttle this damnable pirate. He wanted to see him dead, to wipe that irritating, cocksure smile off his face, and yet it dawned upon him that Sparrow wasn't paying him a visit only to annoy him; he obviously had something else in mind. "What. Do. You. Want?"

"Well, actually it's quite easy. Ye'll let an innocent prisoner go free and in exchange ye'll get back yer beloved Angelo. Now what say ye?"

"Ah, Groves," Beaufort concluded, "so I wasn't wrong in assuming he is conspiring with pirates because he seems to be guilty indeed."

"Ye can't blame a good man for having a conscience that doesn't coincide with yer whims, and ye can't accuse him of conspiring with pirates when in fact the pirates are conspiring with him."

He really wasn't interested in any of what the pirate was saying; it bored him. "What about the letters?"

"Ye'll get them back." To prove his willingness Jack unfolded a piece of paper with Beaufort's handwriting on it before he stowed it in his pocket again. Of course it was just a piece of paper he had snatched from the desk earlier on and not one of the love letters, but his hands had moved too quickly for Randy Charly to notice.

"Alright," Beaufort raised his hands in a surrendering gesture, a fleeting but somehow smug grin curling up the corners of lips as he weighted the consequences of an idea that had just struck him, "I'll issue his pardon if you let me at my desk."

Jack moved to make room for him. He hadn't expected it to be that easy since the crucial points of his negotiation were based on a lie. He did neither have the letters nor was the bloody Italian bastard in his custody- though it could be that Rowan had seized him by now..

Beaufort opened one of the drawers, pretending to search for paper, but instead he produced a pistol and aimed it at Jack. Without hesitation he pulled the trigger and fired.

Nothing happened. There was neither a bang nor did Jack drop dead. Instead, the pirate stood with his back to the window, casually juggling some bullets.

"Ye might think I'm daft but I'm not stupid. Did ye actually believe ye could take me in with such a cheap ol' trick?"

Beaufort didn't respond. Instead he launched another attack at Jack in an attempt to overwhelm the pirate, get back the letters, and beat the truth about Angelo's whereabouts out of him; he hated to be subject to blackmail just because of his love for him.

Once again he had underestimated Captain Jack Sparrow, who hadn't chosen his position randomly. He saw Beaufort coming and stepped aside. The light of the setting sun that now fell in through the open window blinded Charles for a moment, just long enough for Jack to take advantage of the situation. One hard push and Beaufort's upper part of the body was dangling out of the window.

It wasn't his intention to let him drop but he decided that it couldn't harm to leave him dangling like that for a little longer. Probably it was even good for the blood circulation of his brain so that he would grow sensible and stop coming up with any more stupid ideas to kill him.

"Charly, Charly, do I really have to remind ye of what will happen to yer dearly beloved should ye continue to misbehave?" Jack grabbed Beaufort by the collar and heaved him back into the room, whispering _'snip-snip' _in the progress. It was funny to see what effect that reminder had on him, as if he actually believed he was a master of castration. The elder man slouched, fearing for his beautiful lover. Jack smiled. "Now, would ye please be so kind and accompany me to the prison so that Lieutenant Groves is set free immediately?"

Lord Beaufort didn't miss the dangerous undertone in the pirate's voice so he decided it would be better to comply to his wish without further ado. Silently he cursed Angelo for having landed him in this mess. He would have to punish him really hard- an idea that actually cheered him up despite of his current situation- because he had kept the letters instead of destroying them like he had been told. It was irrational, careless, and so sentimentally foolish that it was almost cute.

-

Tao was so sick and tired with waiting since she had already waited too many years for Bootstrap to come back to her that even a few more days seemed to be tormentingly endless to her. She couldn't stand it any longer; she had to do something. They finally had a realistic chance and she wouldn't waste it. Not now. She prepared herself to go ashore.

As she had arranged with Rowan the Black Pearl had sailed closer to Port Royal and was now lying at anchor near Great Goat Island; it's rough rocks hiding the ship from unfriendly eyes.

She checked her look in the mirror, quite pleased with the result. The wig fitted well- wigs were a wonderful thing since the problem with short hair was that you couldn't hide any weapons in it like the two pins that held the knot of long dark hair in place. They looked like chopsticks but were in fact two sharp, pointy little daggers. Fine ladies didn't carry their weapons openly and in this strange place of the world the probably didn't carry any weapons at all.

With a sigh Tao wiped off some of the lip colour she had applied earlier because she remembered that this wasn't appropriate for fine ladies either, and she really had to keep the impression. Sometimes it was just so very hard to adjust her courtesan background with the moral standard of Englishmen though Bootstrap Bill had never complained about that. He had mixed the best of both the European and the Asian way in his thinking, and she was probably the only courtesan without patrons but one true love instead. She smiled when she thought about him. Then she cast one more searching look in the mirror and powdered her face again when a knock on the door startled her.

"Miss Tao, yer longboat is ready." Gibbs' voice came from outside the cabin.

"Just a moment, I'm almost done." Tao chirped and started to frantically search for something, rummaging through the piles of clothes spread on the bed, the table, or on the floor. Life was hard when you couldn't make up your mind on what to wear. "Help! I can't seem to find my quiver!"

Acting like a perfect gentleman Mr Gibbs hastened to aid the lady in distress only to stop dead in his tracks a second later, blushing. He closed his eyes and additionally shielded them with his good arm. "Beg your pardon, Miss Tao, I didn't know ye're not dressed…"

"But I am dressed," she frowned as she glanced down her body, then at her reflection in the mirror. There was nothing wrong with her appearance. She wore the same leather outfit she had worn the day she had landed on the Black Pearl. Also, she suddenly spotted her quiver which was hiding where it actually belonged- it hung on its belt across her shoulder. "Ah, there you are you naughty thing." Quite pleased that her quiver had miraculously returned although it had never been gone she flipped open her fan and smiled at Gibbs. "Now will I pass for a fine lady?"

He opened his eyes and tried to avoid staring at her, not knowing what to say. If he had to answer the question honestly the answer would be no. Although her hairdo and make-up were appropriate, the way she was dressed definitely lacked any sense of decorum.

"Are you sure you haven't forgotten something, Miss Tao?"

"Ah! My parasol!" Once again she started rummaging through her stuff she had so thoroughly spread all over the cabin.

Though a parasol was not what Gibbs had had in mind he nevertheless helped her searching, wondering what his captain would say about the mess his cabin had become. Jack probably wouldn't mind some woman's clothes spread on the floor next to the bed if that included him having fun but he definitely wouldn't appreciate them mingling with his precious charts on the table. Sighing he picked up a candelabra that must have dropped without Tao even touching it, wishing that this mess would be Jack's only problem. If only he knew his captain was safe… suddenly he spotted the parasol; it was hanging on the door handle where Tao must have placed it in order to not forget it before she had forgotten about that. Her sweet, most grateful smile was his reward when he handed it to her. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks, mumbled something unintelligible in response while handing her one of her beautifully embroidered silk garments as a hint to please cover herself properly before he'd start to drool. God, he was just a man and she was the most adorable woman he'd ever laid eyes on but she wasn't meant for him. She was Bootstrap's woman, Captain Jack Sparrow had made that unmistakably clear…

"You cannot possibly expect me to wear that robe with this parasol," Tao scolded him in the nicest possible way, "the colours don't match."

Fortunately it didn't take long for her to find something that matched the parasol in colour. At first look she actually gave the impression of a fine lady now.

Mr Gibbs would have given anything to be one of the lucky ones to row her ashore. Indeed, he would have rowed her wherever and even around the world a dozen times but unfortunately he wasn't of any use due to his broken arm. In resignation he glanced at his bandaged arm in the sling and sighed. At least he had handpicked the pirates who were to accompany her, all trustworthy men worth their salt.

The harbourmaster spotted a longboat approaching the docks, four men were rowing a lady with a parasol ashore. He shrugged, thinking she was probably the snooty wife or daughter of a plantation owner from the other side of the bay, and didn't pay any further attention.

-

"D'ye enjoy pain? Ye'll get it." Rowan rammed her knee in Angelo's stomach. He winced and dropped the dagger he had just produced. To make sure he wouldn't pick it up again she stepped hard on his hand. The sound of broken bones was nasty but she felt no sympathy for him. After all, she knew who had killed Elisabeth and how.

Fortunately he had the grace to not cry out loud.

While Jack was paying Randy Charly a polite visit, Rowan had searched for his pet in the servants wing but to no avail; apparently he wasn't in. Then Angelo had entered the house through the same back door as he had done some weeks ago only that this time he didn't retreat to the secret love nest he used to share with Beaufort. Instead, he was about to hurry up a staircase that led straight to the Governor's office. Of course Rowan couldn't allow him to proceed since she knew that Jack was up there with Beaufort and she hadn't wanted Angelo to interfere. So she had tripped him.

The look of recognition on his face had been as priceless as the fact that he had been clearly underestimating her. Rowan knew what an unpredictably cruel bastard he was so she was warned when he had raised one hand in a surrendering gesture. Had he really thought it would slip her attention that he fumbled for a weapon with his other hand? Needless to say he had been wrong.

Angelo did not cry out loud because like Rowan he didn't want to be discovered, knowing that his presence here would raise as many questions as hers. Officially, he was Captain Smith- not really a naval officer (some people even suspected he was a privateer and there was nothing wrong with that) but known to be a loyal subordinate of Governor Beaufort. He definitely wanted to keep up this image since it would be fatal for Charles if anyone found out the truth about them, that they were lovers. Therefore he bit his lips and swallowed his pain. The last thing he needed now was a stupid servant coming around the corner, screaming. Instead he waited for the opportune moment to overwhelm the bitch who was threatening him.

When he heard footsteps on the stairs above him he thought that this was the moment he had been waiting for but once again he underestimated Rowan. Reacting immediately she knocked him out before he could raise alarm and dragged him into the nearest room. It looked familiar to her. In fact it was the very same room where she had seen him kissing Randy Charly the first time she had spied on him, still believing he was a hot-blooded Italian macho called Antonio Belleri then. Now she knew better.

"…you will understand that I need a proof- I need to know if Angelo is still alive and in whole,…" Rowan heard Beaufort complain almost whiningly as he walked down the staircase, coming closer to the room she was hiding in. She pressed one ear against the door- not missing his desperate undertone that could possibly lead to an unpredictable reaction born of defiance and despair- while at the same time keeping a sharp eye on Angelo, who just regained consciousness.

"Charles!" He yelled before Rowan's boot silenced him.

"Ah!" Jack opened the door, smiling proudly at Rowan. Things worked out so much better than he had expected, thanks to her. He grabbed Beaufort by the collar and shoved him into the room. "There's yer proof. Ye can always trust Captain Jack Sparrow to be telling the truth."

"Amore," Beaufort kneeled down next to his lover, shocked to see some blood on his beautiful face. He shot an accusing glance at Jack. "You promised to not harm him."

"No, I might have mentioned it's not our intention to harm him but…"

"…he misbehaved so I had to do something to assure his cooperation." Rowan completed the sentence in a tone that made unmistakable clear she would continue to assure his cooperation if necessary.

"That's me woman," Jack said admiringly when he noticed that Beaufort and Angelo were whispering in Italian, apparently plotting to overwhelm the pirates. "Now, that would be very unwise," he told them, also in Italian, before he switched back to English. "I am actually a very peaceful man but I cannot guarantee Captain Rowan Scarlett being a peaceful woman- it would be safer for ye to not annoy her; she's quite a spitfire."

For the first time Beaufort took actually notice of Rowan- he rarely paid much attention to women in general and even less to any pirate's whore. He merely gave her a cold sneer that soon vanished from his face when she glared fiercely at him.

"Why don't we kill them right now? These bloody bastards have forfeited their right to live," she spat disgusted, thinking of all the people who had died because of them; Chen and his lot of honest Asian pirates, the smugglers of Samaná… but Jack shook his head.

"No need to hasten things, luv. I just managed to persuade ol' Randy Charly in his position of Governor to pardon kind Lieutenant Groves so let's scurry to the prison first and leave his bello securely tied as leverage."

"Ye heard what Captain Sparrow said so stop cuddling…" Rowan couldn't resist driving them apart violently and while Jack kept a sharp eye on Beaufort, hand at his pistol, she looked around for something to tie up Angelo. Her glance fell on a rack with shackles, whips, and other instruments used for flagellation; it reminded her of Kalpitiya. _Shardul's toys_… ignoring she icy shiver that ran down her spine she used the shackles on Angelo and probably did a more thorough job just because of her memories of Kalpitiya. He was whining when she forced his broken hand into an uncomfortable position but couldn't care less.

"It that really necessary?" Beaufort complained. "He's hurting…"

Jack could almost see wrath boiling up inside of her, knowing she was about to explode. He prepared himself to interfere should she decide to unceremoniously hack the two villains in pieces but to his surprise she stayed calm even though she had drawn her sword. Actually, she was dangerously calm.

"I'm so sorry I happened to step on his hands and broke some delicate little bones of his," smiling sweetly at Beaufort she aimed her sword at Angelo. "D'ye think it might hurt less if I'd chop off the naughty hand?"

"NO!" Beaufort yelped.

"Ah, don't worry, he'd survive it. In fact, isn't it amazing how many parts of the body aren't really essential, and- if severed properly, one by one, taking yer time, not hastening things- there'd still be a flicker of life in the remaining torso? I could start with fingers and toes, work up my way to hands and feet…"

"Oh my God, stop her! She's mad!"

"Well, I told ye to not annoy her. Not my fault that ye've chosen to ignore a well-meant advise." Jack shrugged.

"Please, I will set Groves free immediately. And I won't hinder you from leaving Port Royal," Beaufort offered, sounding really desperate and subdued, "but please don't let her near Angelo again. Don't let her hurt him even more."

"Ye should have taken the possibility of someone seeking revenge into consideration when ye ordered him to massacre innocents." Rowan hissed.

He did not remind her that these allegedly innocents were in fact criminals, pirates and smugglers; Lord Beaufort kept that to himself because he actually feared the furious red head more than Captain Jack Sparrow.

They left the mansion through the back door although Beaufort assured them it would be safe to use the front door, but the pirates were not going to take that risk. By no way they were to trust him and the less people they met on their way to the local prison the better.

It was almost too easy. Fearing for his beloved Angelo Beaufort did not try to trick them even when he spoke to the prison guards. Instead, Lieutenant Theodore Groves was released from jail only a moment later, blinking in utter astonishment at his rescuers. The look on his face was priceless. It wouldn't have surprised Rowan if had prostrated himself in front of Jack, stammering his eternal gratitude. He didn't do that though- he merely asked 'why?' as if he couldn't understand why a man like Captain Jack Sparrow would waste his time with him .

"Well, ye helped me so I felt obliged to convince Randy Charly to clear yer record. No need to thank me, mate- we're square." Jack said casually as soon as they had left the prison again. "Although, if ye want to do me a favour- scurry to Commodore Morrison's office and inform him of the course of events; Norrington will be there too…"

"What?" Beaufort barked. "What's the damnable ex-commodore doing in Morrison's place?"

"Discussing love letters." Jack told him bluntly after Groves had scampered off.

"B-b-but you said you have them. You lied."

"Pretty much." He admitted with a wry smile, thinking that ol' Randy Charly must be kind of daft to trust a pirate, and he wished they could have simply locked him away in the very same prison cell that had been his home for almost a week. Alas, they still needed him so they had to bear with him a little longer.

Meanwhile something happened that Jack had not taken into consideration- he had completely forgotten about Hudson, Beaufort's rough bulk of a servant. Though definitely not the brightest he was nevertheless loyal, used to cleaning up the mess caused by his Lordship's dark ambitions, and he was probably the only one who knew about his secret love affair with Angelo. After all, there wasn't much to fear of a mute because it was rather unlikely he'd go gossiping.

Since Hudson never strayed away from his master's side for too long, always ready to wait for new orders, it didn't take him long to find Angelo. First, he didn't grasp the situation and simply stared at the shackled man with a dumb expression on his face. Only when Angelo yelled at him and explicitly told him what he wanted him to do it slowly dawned upon Hudson that this wasn't any of games his master usually liked to play, and he finally unlocked the shackles.

Angelo bit his lips to not cry out in pain when the blood came flooding back to his numb limbs. His broken hand ached horribly but he tried to ignore the pain. It wasn't important. All that mattered to him was Charles, to free him from the pirates' captivity.

"Hudson- go and alarm my crew. Master is in danger!"

The brute grunted, apparently he had understood. Angelo watched him leave and then ran towards the prison where he knew the pirates- and Charles- would be.

But before he could get there someone else, who also had bone to pick with Jack Sparrow and who also cared about Charles Beaufort (though not as much as Angelo did), saw the pirates leaving the prison building, accompanied by the Governor. It merely took Will Turner a second to figure out that the honourable Lord Beaufort was most likely their prisoner, taken hostage by Jack and Rowan, since he would never side up with them of his own free will. Determined to put an end to their evil doings he unsheathed his sword.

Will had no concrete plan, he only knew that he had to stop Jack by any means- he could not let him get away; he could not let him get away because of Elisabeth. Jack Sparrow had cold-bloodedly murdered the love of his life and he would have to pay for it. But before he could launch a surprise attack he heard footsteps approaching. Was it coincidence or sheer luck that the person coming round the corner was no other than his father? His lousy father who had let him down so often, too often, and always because of Jack. _Jack, Jack, Jack- _anger roared inside him and he knew exactly what to do. It wasn't much of an effort to get hold of his father and even less to grab him hard from behind, pressing the blade of his sword threateningly against Bootstrap Bill's throat.

"Sparrow!" Will shouted. "Let go of Lord Beaufort or I'll kill him!"

Jack turned to face Will. If he was surprised or even startled by the whelp's action it didn't show on his face; his expression was as unfathomable as ever.

"If you ever truly cared for my father- who calls you his best friend- then I suppose you wouldn't want to risk his life, right? So let go of Lord Beaufort and surrender."

"Why should I?" Jack sneered, and everyone who was witnessing this scene gasped, taken aback about his apparent indifference. "Actually I'm quite pleased with the current situation…"

"So you don't mind if I'll kill your friend?"

"Yer funeral if ye try to do so."

Will took an almost sick pride in having seen that coming, knowing for sure now that the pirate didn't give a damn about anyone else but himself, that he didn't know any loyalty. For an instant he pitied his father for having had faith in Jack Sparrow… apparently he had been wrong. Beaufort shot him an appreciating look, a wolfish grin curling up the corners of his lips. Things were going fine, perfectly fine, and even more because he saw Angelo approaching- his beloved revenging angel. This would be the end of the pirates…

None of them however noticed what Rowan had and that was the brief, fleeting moment in which Jack and Bill had locked eyes, a mere fraction of a second of wordless understanding and unwavering trust. Bill went slack, not even attempting to put up a fight when all he wanted was to lure his son in the safe belief of whatever he liked to believe. It was obvious that they were up to something- that much for sure- although she had no idea what that might be until her eyes followed Jack's up to the rooftop of the building where Will Turner was still standing, holding his father captive. She smiled…

… an arrow came shooting from a crossbow. It hit a kettle lying on the ground with a _pling_, darted from there to a bronzen door sign, nearly scratched Angelo's nose, whooshed through the air and finally battered into a flower pot that then fell down, straight on Will's head.

Jack had no idea whether Tao had actually planned that but in the end only the result mattered. Will was distracted with wiping soil off his face so that Bill could escape his grip; he sank to his knees and somersaulted forward in Jack's direction.

"Bloody idiot! How many times-" He broke off and turned around. Beaufort had just tried to use the opportunity to get to Angelo but Rowan had been faster. Now he was lying in the dust, curled up in pain, clutching his private parts. Jack cheered. "I really adore yer footwork, luv."

In the meantime Tao stumbled while jumping from the roof but she got to her feet before Angelo could take advantage of the situation. Resolutely she smacked her fan across the fingers of his good hand.

"GET OFF! Get off you lousy stinking piece of shit!"

Though he had a broken hand Angelo believed that a woman attacking him with a fan was not a challenge. He was much wiser when she flipped open said fan and slapped it across his face. He howled with pain, staring at the Asian woman in utter disbelief. Blood was streaming from three longs cuts that ran over his cheek like the mark of a claw.

Will, who had just wiped off the remains of the flowerpot, looked alarmed at Angelo and decided to help him instead of pursuing his father. He raised his sword, ready to strike at Tao but she saw his blow coming and ducked. She rolled over the ground, jumped up and, in performing a perfect pirouette, drew her cutlass. Of course she had whirled around a little too fast so that she had to regain orientation first in order to not attack the wrong person. For a moment it almost seemed as if she would launch herself at Bill, then she noticed her mistake and beamed happily.

"Oh, hello Bootstrap darling. I missed-"

"Watch out!" Bill yelled since he saw his son approaching her, ready to kill. He had long drawn his own sword though he knew he'd never been able to beat Will in a fight fair or not. Nevertheless he sped to parry the deadly blow, the force of which sent a jolt of pain through his arm followed by a feeling of numbness. He wasn't sure whether he'd be able to raise his sword again, yet he barked at Will. "Don't ye ever dare to threaten yer future stepmother again!"

Will glared at him as if he could kill his father with all of his loathing. "You- you lousy, bloody- _**pirate**_!" Maybe he couldn't think of a better swearword but then he ranted on. "You are about to dishonour my mother's memory if you actually consider getting seriously involved with that… that slant eyed Chinese whore!"

"Concubine," Tao chirped, correcting him. "I was trained as a concubine. I could have laid with the Emperor of China if I had wanted to but instead I chose your father. He's such a wonderful man."

Will was not at all impressed by her statement, if possible it only stirred up his already boiling rage even more. That moment Angelo's crew of miscreants led by Hudson entered the scene and the pirates were clearly outnumbered. However, they would not give in without a fight and soon the clattering sound of blades meeting other blades was to be heard.

In midst of all the fighting Tao suddenly appeared at Bill's side, smiling brightly as she asked. "Am I right to assume that you finally proposed to me?"

Bill lowered his weapon to knock out one of his opponents with a karate chop instead before answering, "Yeah, I guess that's what I was about."

Tao still smiled as she rammed her feet into the stomach of another villains, clearly happy that she didn't have to rely on her poor fencing abilities only. Like Bill she wasn't very good with a sword but when she was young- before she had been trained to become a courtesan- her father had taught her martial arts, knowing that the daughter of a pirate should be able to defend herself properly. She had kept up the training later, after having failed to be the perfect courtesan, and was actually quite good at it now… if she didn't stumble over her own two feet or start complaining about a broken fingernail, that is.

"I accept!" She shouted.

"Splendid!" Jack shot Bill an approving glance while casually disarming an attacker with his sword. Sometimes fighting could be so much fun, especially after he had been rendered helpless for much too long. "I love weddings! Drinks…"

He fell silent when he noticed that Will didn't seem to be all too pleased with the notion of his father marrying Tao. If he could he would probably spoil their plans by killing them. Jack stepped in his way and parried his blow.

"Go for it, mate! Kiss her!" Jack told Bill, grinning broadly, while at the same time letting his blade run along Will's with a screeching sound. "I'll take over here."

It wasn't the first time they duelled, and he had to admit that Will had improved his skills since challenging him in Mr Brown's smithy all those years ago; the whelp had become an excellent sword fighter. He had also learned some tricks, obviously from Jack. They circled, they stoke and parried, swords locked, then metal crashed on metal again, sometimes so hard that sparks flew. Will was the stronger one of them which would have been his advantage but Jack faster, always a step ahead. And he still had a bag of tricks that the whelp couldn't even dream of. It was about time to teach him a lesson.

Then, suddenly, a strict voice shouted.

"Stop fighting! Immediately! Lower your weapons! All of you!"

Commodore Morrison came strutting around the corner, James at his side, a group of soldiers following in their wake. Beaufort let out a laugh of relief.

"Commodore! Heaven sent you! I can honestly I'm glad to see you. Now please, arrest these pirates. They threatened my life."

"I am awfully sorry, Governor Beaufort, but I am not in command anymore…"

"What?" snapped Beaufort, looking puzzled.

"Agent Norrington carries a letter of plenary authority which grants him command over all military forces in Port Royal." Morrison informed him and Norrington, smiling smugly as if he had been waiting for this for a long time, said with a cool, formal voice. "In the name of His Royal Highness, King William III, I hereby declare that Lord Charles Beaufort is charged for high treason. Arrest him."

"You must be mad. You are the one who ought to be arrested because you are conspiring with pirates." Beaufort sneered, then turned to face Morrison. "Commodore, that letter of plenary authority is definitely a fake. I am certain that the Admiralty in London has suspended him from duty…"

"Your attempt to bribe the First Lord of the Admiralty has failed, Beaufort, I have friends in higher places. And these friends don't take treason lightly, these friends are loyal to their king."

"Lies! I'm the King's most humble and loyal servant, and anyone who questions my reputation is a liar. Commodore Morrison, you have been tricked…"

"I'm afraid, Sir, but Agent Norrington is telling the truth. Here is the proof of your crimes against the King." Morrison held up the bunch of letters that James had given him, still feeling disgusted after having read them. Beaufort blanched visibly. "Now, are you going to tell me that these are forged too? They aren't. I know your handwriting, Sir, and therefore I believe they are real. I must admit though that I'm utterly dismayed about the cold-bloodedness of your ways. You had Governor Swann murdered just to discredit Sparrow…"

"Captain Sparrow." Jack corrected him, and Norrington smiled wryly.

"You stole my letters!" Angelo roared, blaming Jack for a theft he hadn't committed. Apparently it had become a popular habit to blame Jack for things he hadn't done.

"Nope, that was me," Rowan said proudly. The Italian shot her a really nasty look.

"Indeed," Norrington agreed, "we have to thank Captain Scarlett for giving us the chance to gain knowledge of your relationship with Angelo d'Abruzzo, Beaufort. As soon as we are back in London there will be further investigations, including an old _accident_ that happened in Venice and in which his parents died. I am certain you arranged it…"

"No, **I** did it! **I** made their boat sank! **I** got rid off them because I wanted to be with Charles forever."

"Oh amore," Beaufort breathed affectionately.

Everyone was a bit puzzled about the news. Almost unnoticed Angelo reached in his pocket with his good hand…

"Jack! Watch out!" Bill yelled as if he had seen it coming, having kept a wary eye on the Italian ever since the soldiers had appeared. He knew of Angelo's unscrupulousness and didn't want to fail in stopping him again.

Angelo produced a small pistol from his pocket, aimed, and fired, while Bill flung himself at Jack to get him out of the line of fire. The bullet hit him instead, sending him down to the ground.

"BILL!" Totally shocked, Jack darted at his friend's side to see if there was anything he could do for him, and the fear of loss hit him like the bolt out of the blue. He didn't see or hear what was going on around him.

Tao let out a terrifying howl. She pulled the chop sticks resembling daggers out of her hair and launched herself at Angelo who didn't stand a chance against the murderous rage of a Xing-Ill. Surprisingly, no one stopped her. Perhaps it went all too fast, and almost everyone was still staring at Jack bent over Bill's motionless form, frantically patting his friend's cheek.

"C'mon mate, wake up," he muttered, blinking away the tears that were burning in his eyes simply because pirates don't cry. Rowan put a comforting hand on his shoulder but he hardly realized it as well as he didn't take any notice of Beaufort's desperate cries when he had to witness Tao slaughtering his beloved Angelo with her razor sharp daggers. Then he heard a muffled groan that made him come to his senses again, and he finally checked where the bullet had hit Bill. He let out a laugh that sounded like he was mad. Well, mayhap he was.

"Hit 'im straight in the head," he told Tao grinningly when she came over with the expression of a mourning widow on her face, "dunno if Mr Wu'll be able to fix that."

Tao wiped her eyes, not caring that she smeared blood mingled with tears all over her face as she stared at Jack, slowly realizing what he had said. Then she glanced at Bill. The bullet had hit his shoulder, straight in the head of the dragon inked into his skin. The wound might mar his tattoo but was not fatal.

"He's alive," she whispered amazed and knelt down beside him.

"Aye…" Bill rasped, opening his eyes and trying to flash her a reassuring smile.

"You better be! I will not accept any ill-advised attempt of yours in stealing yourself out of that proposal you made by simply dying before we are married!" Tao yelled at him.

"Uh-oh, seems ye're in trouble, mate." Jack said, still grinning broadly. For a moment he had actually feared that his friend was dead and it had felt like dying inside, dying with him. But now euphoria was shooting though his veins and there was absolutely no way to wipe that grin of his face. Bill was not dead. Life was perfect. He wanted to kiss Rowan.

Tao had jumped to her feet again. Now that she knew that she was to become Mrs Bootstrap there was only one thing left to do.

"Captain Sparrow, keep a sharp eye on my future husband. Rowan, sister, please be so kind to keep a sharp eye on your man keeping a sharp eye on mine and don't let them do anything stupid. I have to stand by my vow to avenge Chen's death." The idea of sweet vengeance was sparkling in her eyes as she glared at Beaufort, toying with the chop stick like daggers in her hands.

Realizing what she was up to, Commodore Morrison ordered his soldiers to stop her going berserk again, eager to prevent another cruel, cold-blooded slaughter, but they didn't seem to take orders from him anymore. Instead, they looked at Norrington who merely gestured them to hold on. He wanted to try and reason with her first.

"Um- Miss Tao- let me assure you that I deeply regret your loss, and that Beaufort will have to pay for his crimes. He will have to face a trial…"

"Dragon shit! These posh lords do always get away, they bribe the judges and pretend they're innocent because no one in London gives a damn about an honest Chinese pirate."

"You are right- it is very unlikely indeed that the slaughter of your brother and his men will ever be mentioned at court, but he is definitely going to be charged on high treason **and** for having arranged the murder of Governor Weatherby Swann. I give you my word that he will end up at Execution docks in London."

Tao glanced from Norrington to Bill and Jack, a mutinous expression on her face. "What say you? Is this long nosed, pale and stiff Englishmen to be trusted?"

"Ye know, I was always rooting for Jamie," Jack said softly, "and besides, look at Beaufort…"

She did and saw a broken man crouched on the ground, shaking all over, whimpering and whining uncontrollably with grief.

"… methinks ye already took revenge when ye killed his beloved, not quite so _bello_ anymore, Angelo. Look at what's left of Randy Charly- ye wouldn't want to dirty yer fingers with that pathetic git for it would only be a mercy killing. Leave something for the big audience in London."

At long last Tao dropped her daggers which made all the soldiers lower their weapons as well. She stared at Norrington. "So you promise that this stinking piece of rotten shit will get what he deserves? What is the punishment for high treason in that cold and foggy country of yours?"

"He is likely to be drawn and quartered."

"Care to elaborate on that?"

"Just a moment." Norrington gave orders that Beaufort was to be imprisoned immediately, not wanting to give Tao a chance to change her mind. He also gave the particularly order that he wanted him to be locked away in the very same prison cell in which Jack had been kept. Though he wasn't a cruel man, having read the letters had sickened him so immensely that Beaufort didn't deserve any better. And though it was unlikely that the slaughter of smugglers and pirates would ever matter at court, they would nevertheless give an indication of how his depraved mind had ticked; it would perfectly show the unscrupulous, ruthless side of Lord Charles Beaufort. Yes, most definitely he would be drawn and quartered.

James had to write a letter to Rupert Ashcroft and inform him about the course of events, he had to see to it that Beaufort's partners in crime- the thugs that had crewed the Jewel lately- would not get away unpunished. Alas, when he looked around for them he had to realize that most of them seemed to have disappeared, and so had Will Turner. It crossed his mind that the blacksmith might not have even cared to listen to the fact of Jack being **not** guilty of having murdered Governor Swann which led to the conclusion that he was also not the one to blame for Elisabeth's death. But would young, rash Will Turner have accepted the truth? James doubted it, remembering the expression of pure hatred on Will's face while duelling Jack and how angry he had appeared to be when the fighting had been stopped by Morrison and himself. Maybe he had slipped away just then, licking his wounds now, dwelling in grief mingled with loathing and a good portion of jealousy. Nevertheless it came as a surprise for James to learn that the Jewel had left port shortly after the fight.

However, he did not sent any ship of the Royal Navy to go hunting down a mislead blacksmith since there was so much else to do. James Norrington was now in command of not only the military forces of Port Royal but also in charge of political matters due to the arrest of the former governor. He had to arrange a lot of things to assure the stability of social order before he could finally go home to his wife.

Although it was late, past midnight already, the lights were still on and the kitchen was crowded with people; Catherine was serving coffee. It smelled wonderful but even more wonderful was seeing her. It even made him smile to see the group of pirates gathered in his kitchen, joined by Lieutenant Theodore Groves who was listening with unconcealed and definitely inappropriate admiration to the yarn Captain Jack Sparrow was spinning. Bootstrap Bill, a little pale but otherwise well (probably having been stitched up by Catherine since he had made it quite clear that he didn't trust any of the quacks in town, let alone a Navy's ship doc) was holding hands with Tao who happily spilled some wine over him.

James cleared his throat and at once the cheerful mood ceased, all eyes were directed to him. Groves blushed, apparently aware of his inappropriate behaviour. He jumped to his feet and saluted.

"Commodore, I'm awaiting your orders, Sir!"

"Please sit down again, Theodore," James said softly. "You served your king and country well, you even endured imprisonment for your unfaltering loyalty. I recommended your long overdue promotion- Captain Groves."

Whatever Groves was about to say went under in the noise of pirates clapping their hands, cheering. Jack shouted, "Drinks all around!"

James accepted a glass of wine although he would have preferred a cup of coffee- there was still a lot of work to be done- but then he decided that that could wait until tomorrow. Tonight was for celebrating the fall of an unscrupulous villain and traitor. He raised his glass in a toast, hoping that Uncle Rupert would be proud of him and consider him worthy of Catherine.

Jack shot him his trademark smile. "Well done, Jamie. Ye really got a knack for perfect timing."

There had been a time when he would have loathed to hear praise from a pirate- actually he would have loathed the idea of a pirates in his kitchen, let alone a pirate party, but now he enjoyed the lively event. Of course he would have to check the silverware later…

* * *

thanks for reading. There will be one more chapter and (maybe) an epilogue. Please don't forget to review. 


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